2020 Vision
by Nona Mousy
Summary: AU. When an attack by Elgen shortcircuits his control medal, Sho Fukamachi suddenly finds himself in a past he's all but forgotten.
1. Prologue

**Author's Notes:** Will be long. Some of what the story rides on is based on the idea that a guyver unit will provide the host with, if not exactly immortality, a greatly extended lifespan. This has been debated plenty and I don't feel like trying to argue for or against the point. For the sake of this story, I have made it so.

**Fic Spoiler Warnings:** Pretty much everything.

**Fic Disclaimer:** Guyver is not mine.

**Rating: **PG-13 for swearing and violence.

**Summary:** When an attack by Elgen short-circuits his control medal, Sho Fukamachi suddenly finds himself in a past he's all but forgotten. Haunted by memories of a future life he never lived and a strange connection to a now inactive unit-g, can Sho find it in himself to give up the normal life he could have had?

**Prologue – In the Beginning was Everything that Came After.**

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* * *

**

"_Second chances are a funny thing. Everyone always thinks that hindsight is 20/20, that if only they could go back and do things over they could fix all the problems in the universe. But really that's not how it works. When you get a second chance at something you tend to make the same mistakes all over again. Its not that you won't see things coming, its that when you regret something enough to want to change it you haven't really learned from it. All the bad stuff in life makes you the person you are, and if it didn't occur then you wouldn't be the person that wanted to prevent it. So you have to accept that some things are simply inevitable._" - Lord Fukamachi, from a recorded meeting of the Great Council, Earth standard year 2351.

* * *

When he was five his mother died. 

She had been walking home from the market when a car lost control as it came around a corner too fast. He had been out on the front walk waiting for her and playing in the light drifts of snow that had settled earlier that day. The sun had glinted brightly off the soft white fluff, filtering down through fluffy cotton clouds in streams of golden light.

In the long moments after the scream of tires and the horrible crunch as the car came to a final stop against a light post Sho could swear one of the beams fell to rest on her. She had looked beautiful there in the snow, glowing in the fading golden light and haloed in the brightest shade of red he'd ever seen.

The driver had come to see them after the funeral. His father had turned away at the man's apology, but Sho had looked up at the devastated face and had solemnly accepted. It was several years more before he fully grasped the finality of death, but he had never regretted forgiving the man.

When in later years the woman he had called mother faded to a vague memory he would still be able to recall how beautiful she had looked that day, forever asleep in the snow.

* * *

The girl that he loves will die in a hospital surrounded by her loved ones. 

He will watch from far away, an outsider to the people she will have claimed as family. Some of them will wonder who the young man is that seems to mourn her so deeply, but it will not matter that they do not know him.

Before she passes she will tell him she is happy. She will thank him for watching over her and he will smile at her irony, for in the parts of his mind he likes to ignore he will know she has been supremely fortunate to have lived so long precisely because of his watchful gaze.

He will find some consolation in the fact it is a human condition and not an alien one that will finally silence her forever. He will not be there for her final breath, but he will know when it happens and he will cry for a very long time.

It will be a very long time after her passing before he will find it in himself to cry again.

* * *

The zoaniod was dangerous. More so than all the other's he'd faced so far. 

He wasn't sure how he knew that, but every fiber of his being screamed that it would be better to leave this battle to another day. He was given no choice though, he was all that stood between it and his loved ones. In that moment they were all depending on him to be able to fight. He had to be able to defeat it. Dangerous or not, all other options were unthinkable.

A quick mental scan indicated his only potential help was down for the count, so this was going to have to work with just him.

A long tentacle lashed out and he dodged, unintentionally angling himself directly into the path of another one. It wrapped viciously around his neck, swiftly constricting itself to cut off his airway, but the crushing sensation was nothing to the violent jolt of electricity that followed. It burned across his nerves and he felt himself try ineffectually to scream around the noose that still held him.

It was only a blind determination not to his friends be taken that allowed him to drag an arm up and slash at the coil that was continuing to pump current through him. The length of flesh dropped away, twitching violently as electricity continued to arc across its severed surface.

The zoanoid snarled and its next attack was not directed at him, but at the people behind him. He could see the trajectory of the whip mentally and lurched forward to intercept. A small stumble in his haste and exhaustion and he had only the barest fraction of a second to contemplate the spark of energy coming directly at his head.

Then the world exploded into light.

* * *

When he is woken from his enforced sleep he will be surprised it is not Makishima come to finish him off but an old friend and enemy. By that time Guyver III will be long gone and much later, when he has time to consider it, he will wonder what has become of his former partner and murderer. 

When he first wakes there are far more pressing things to wonder about though, the conflict that is destroying his home world has escalated almost beyond hope. Even so when he joins the front-lines it seems to provide some.

He will never believe he was a turning point in the war, but others will claim he is such in later years, when they have begun to rebuild in the aftermath. Somehow what he has saved is not what he ever envisioned himself to be fighting for, but after all that has happened he will think it was worth it none-the-less.

Old enemies will become close companions and he will mourn the passing of those too worn by the passage of time and ravages of war. Long stretches of time will pass as slowly he will watch the world return to something he almost remembers.

* * *

When he was six years old he moved with his father to the area he would remember later in life with the fondness of home. It is a frightening thing to a child to be uprooted though, and with his mother gone he felt doubly lost in the strange new setting. 

She was crying the first time he met her because she'd skinned her knee.

He knew, as only little boys know, how dangerous it was to get too close to a girl. They had cooties and if you weren't careful they'd kiss you and you'd get them too (He wasn't sure what a cootie was, but he was pretty sure he didn't want one). All the same she was crying and he had been a sucker for crying even at that age so when she'd quieted down as he sat down next to her and asked what was wrong he knew he was going to have to risk it.

He carried her home that day and helped her older brother patch up her knee with entirely too much gauze and tape. It was the ugliest bandage he'd ever seen, but she seemed to like it. She'd giggled happily and to his utter disgust rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek. He'd claimed he'd never forgive her for it, but the next day the three children were playing together.

When he bothered to think about it years later, he decided cooties weren't such an awful thing to be infected with after all.

* * *

Time broke. 

Somewhere a car was burning and someone was screaming his name. Somewhere the sun was shining on his mother as she rocked him to sleep on an old porch he didn't remember. Somewhere the sky was purple and he was laughing with an old friend as they helped a transport ship to unload supplies for the new colonists. Somewhere a terrifying creature reared up and slashed at him, its talons shredding through the flesh of his abdomen. Somewhere three children were throwing snowballs at one another in glee at the winter's first freeze.

Lost. Confused. Awake.

Somewhere something that wasn't asleep woke up.

With its awareness Time jerked, sputtered, reformed and began again.

"Sho?" A familiar but unfamiliar voice was calling. He blinked in confusion as the blinding white coalesced into shapes.

"Mr. Fukamachi, are you alright?" The next voice was less familiar. Older. He blinked again, trying to reform the shapes into people. Slowly they sharpened and he found himself being studied by the concerned face of a girl that was dead. He felt nauseous as he drew his gaze away from her to look up at a bewildered teacher. The old man might have been someone he'd learned from once, but it felt as if it had all been so very long ago...

:sleep:

Yes, that was a good idea. Blinking a few more times vaguely at the dead girl he slumped forward into a faint.


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes:** I don't know a whit about time travel except for having watched too much sci-fi as a child. If my explanation seems off, chalk it up to guyver-induced migraines and the overdose of painkillers I fed to the main character, just don't ask me to clarify.

**Rating: **PG-13 for violence and swearing.

**Summary:** Hearing voices is never a good sign. Hearing voices combined with memories of fighting large monster-like bioweapons is definitely something to be concerned with. Annoyed and confused, Sho tries to decide if he's crazy, dead or just severely displaced.

**Chapter 1- One Future's Past**

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* * *

**

The ceiling was bright white tile, the kind he hadn't seen in a surprisingly long time. The tile directly over his head was cracked, and the one next to it had a small spot of water damage. They seemed entirely alien to him and he blinked several times before his mind realized he was awake and decided to follow suit.

"Sho?" A concerned voice drew his attention from his inspection of the ceiling and he looked over at Mizuki Segawa in confusion.

"I'm dead?" He wondered. She snorted and grinned at him a little.

"Well, you can't be feeling too bad if you're cracking jokes!" She shook her head at what she seemed to think was his attempt at humor. "Seriously though Sho, you really scared me, Sensei almost had a heart attack when you just passed out like that. Are you alright?"

He blinked at her and frowned. His head felt muddy and there was something wrong that he couldn't pinpoint. He tried to remember what he'd been doing before this whole episode but all he could recall were strange flashes of snow and blood and a purple sky. It didn't make anything like sense and trying to think about it only succeeded in giving him a headache.

"I'm..." He began hesitantly, scrutinizing her. She looked the same as he remembered her... but, younger, happier maybe, than the mental image he carried with him.

"I'm fine." He decided finally. "I just must be tired." He offered. Mizuki huffed and he suspected she thought he was lying. Of course, she was probably right since fine and amnesiac with an oncoming migraine weren't really the same thing

"You never could take care of yourself!" She admonished. "You are supposed to sleep at home you know, not at school." Her reprimand was carried on an undercurrent of concern, and if he hadn't been so confused at seeing her he would have been pleased by that.

He nodded vaguely in lieu of a response, his gaze still studying her; cataloging all the things that were right and wrong about the way she looked.

"Well anyway, I'm glad you're alright." She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and he turned his attention back to the ceiling after a long moment, not really sure what he could say just then.

"I have to get to afternoon class." She interrupted his contemplation of the tiles again. "You should go home and get some rest." He nodded agreeably, listening diffidently to the sound of her retreat.

"I'm dead." He decided eventually.

:not dead:

"Are you supposed to feel nauseous when you're dead?" He wondered to no one in particular, generally annoyed that he was arguing with himself.

:not dead:

"I'm not sure I'd have let myself die if I'd known being dead meant going back to school." He mused, picking at the starched cotton that covered the cot he was lying on.

He struggled to pinpoint how he might have died. His memory felt like a jumbled mess and ultimately he could come up with a dozen instances or more that might have been life-threatening that he couldn't recall the conclusions to. It wasn't a very encouraging thing to contemplate.

:not dead:

"Shut up." He ordered.

The other-voice fell silent. He supposed that was a good thing.

* * *

By the time he woke up the next morning he'd decided he wasn't dead. Dead people did not throw up (He was pretty confident about that), which meant that whatever odd thing was going on that at least he was alive to deal with it. By the time he was dressed and debating the wisdom of breakfast he'd half convinced himself that not only was he not dead, but he was suffering from illness-induced delusions. 

Zoaniods, Chronos, a Guyver unit... it was all so ridiculously far-fetched. Besides which point he'd checked himself over that morning and the tumors on his shoulders that he'd distinctly remembered having were nowhere to be seen. As far as he could tell there was no physical evidence that all the weird brain flashes and "memories" that were floating around at the peripheral of his mind just then were anything but residual effects from a fever-induced dream. Already they seemed less cohesive than they had the previous day, like random bits of a story thrown together out of sequence.

At least mostly satisfied with this answer he decided to risk a bit of toast as his father entered the kitchen.

"Feeling better?" The older man inquired, watching Sho with a bit of concern.

Sho couldn't help but flush a bit in embarrassment at the whole situation, but he nodded and mumbled something vaguely affirmative. His father continued to watch him in silent consideration for a long moment before sighing and flipping on the television to watch the news as they ate. Sho pushed down the insane sense of deja-vu he felt as his father sat down and instead focused on eating his chosen slice of toast without upsetting whatever was wrong with him again.

"...suspicious accident in the Mt. Narisawa area is being investigated by the police." He jumped a little and looked up at the television. The picture on screen was of a banged up car. It looked as if it had been pulverized by... well, by a zoaniod.

:come:

"Sho?" He jumped again and turned to his father. "You look pale, why don't you stay home today and recover." He nodded as he felt the dull thud of a headache beginning again.

"Yeah... yeah, I think you're right." He agreed, pulling himself up stiffly. "I think... I think I'll go lie down."

:comecomecome:

He stumbled up the stairs and collapsed onto his bed, trying not to think about how much his head suddenly hurt.

:come get me:

"Shut up." He ordered. This time when the not-voice didn't respond all it did was make his headache worse.

* * *

"Fukamachi, you're sick. Go back home." He ordered himself as he stumbled along one of the old footpaths that led around Mt. Narisawa. "You're not some all-powerful, bio-weaponized, super-being. There is no such thing as monsters and even if there were, you can't fight them, so please go home." He didn't really know why he was bothering to try to talk himself out of the hike at that point, but it made him feel vaguely better to voice the protests anyway.

:comecomecomeandgetme: The other-voice sounded annoyingly giddy as it prodded him forward on this ridiculous quest.

"Look at you. You're sick, worse you're delusional. I mean voices? That's not a good sign, Fukamachi. I'm pretty sure that's the kind of thing you go to mental hospitals for. Voices are not a good sign." He kicked at a loose rock on the path as he continued to let whatever it was that was-not-talking-to-him-in-his-head-because-he-wasn't-crazy tug him forward.

:talking to self bad sign also:

"You shut up. You're not real." He blinked at the squirrel that he had accidentally pointed at in his annoyance. It sat up on its haunches and twitched its nose in a way that probably meant 'I am too real, you stupid human!' before running off. Sho sighed in irritation. "See? Even the wildlife thinks I've lost my mind. The squirrel wins, you're not real and I'm not talking to you anymore."

He forced himself to stop then and look around then, trying to pinpoint where he was. He could just see the lake below through a break in the trees. Assuming he wasn't completely out of his mind he was in entirely the wrong place to retrieve the unit, not to mention the wrong time frame.

:Left alone: The not-voice informed him.

"Where? I'm not walking much farther, I'm tired and I'm sick and I want to go home and go back to pretending I'm not losing my mind." He returned, responding in spite of himself to the slight tug to his right. Grumbling in protest he left the path and weaved slowly through the trees, trying to keep an eye open for anything nasty that might disagree with his presence.

:Nothing around. Safe:

"Safe by whose definition?" He muttered, stopping as the annoying tugging sensation abruptly dropped off. He was standing at the bottom of a sharp drop off in the hillside. The area wasn't familiar to him, and he wasn't sure if that was encouraging or concerning. The rough clearing a few paces away looked peaceful enough and there were no traces nearby that anyone had been through the area recently. He squinted at the heavy boulders that leaned up against the stone face of the drop off considerately. It took him a few minutes, but he eventually spotted what looked like a disturbed shrub near one. Walking over he knelt next to it and pushed the bush away.

Shoved partly under the large stone was a relatively unassuming looking briefcase. He spared a last paranoid look around before pulling it out and warily snapping it open. There was a rush of cold air as the mini-cryo container opened and then he was left staring at something he could have happily gone his whole life without ever seeing again.

"Well fuck." He swore. He would have liked it a lot better if the three unit-gs glinting dully in the mid-morning light had been something boring. Someone's picnic lunch maybe, even some scandalous photos or evidence of some nasty corporate wrongdoings (though in a way he supposed that last one wasn't so far off). The unit in the center of the container's control metal flashed and he glared at it in annoyance.

"Stop!" He ordered, picking it up to glare more closely into the glowing orb. "I came because I don't want you running amok. That does not mean you have permission to attach to me." Its pulsing slowed to a vague glow and he got the vague sense of disappointment from it.

:...mine: It protested hopefully.

He pulled his backpack off and shoved the thing into it in response. There was a vague sense of indignation, but no further comments from the unit. He paused then to consider the other two. If he left them he had a fairly good idea what would happen to them. Makishima has orchestrated this little incident from the very start he knew, and while he didn't like the guy in the least, he was a very strong fighter. For all his later shortcomings the other man had been important to the war that seemed destined to be coming.

On the other hand, letting Chronos get a hold of one of the units, even a damaged one, had been a big mistake. They had learned entirely too much about the guyvers due to Guyver II. He could take them both, give them to people he trusted... but all those that came to mind he trusted because of events that hadn't happened yet and some of them were not the same people in the here and now that they would be later in life.

:one who stole is returning: The unit informed him. Swearing under his breath Sho slammed the case shut and shoved it back into the place he had found it, rushing to rearrange things the way they had appeared when he got there.

Somewhere not too far off a branch snapped.

Decision made for him, Sho Fukamachi turned and ran.

* * *

By the time Sho got home again his headache was back in full force. Sighing he stumbled up to his room and fell into bed, trying to ignore the weight still on his back. The stupid thing weighed a lot more than he remembered, but he supposed he hadn't ever carried an inactive guyver unit any substantial distance before. He glared drearily at the clock trying to decide what to do next. 

He should call Tetsuro, he supposed, ask him to come over after school to ensure the older boy didn't decide to go wander around Mount Narisawa on his own. Fumbling a little he managed to grasp his phone off the desk nearby without actually getting up. Tetsuro's cell rang twice before the message box beeped.

"Tetsuro, its Sho, I was wondering if you could stop by my house after school..." He paused trying to think of a good reason for the request. "Er... I want to ask you about something." Between his headache and his general confusion over everything just then he wasn't coming up with much. "Its um, really important." He finished lamely.

:should let me bond:

:will help your head:

Sho clicked off the phone and leaned over to fumble it more or less back into its cradle.

"Shut up. No bonding." He returned, trying to shrug out of his backpack without having to move too much. The nausea from yesterday was making an unwelcome return.

:why not:

:Mine:

Annoyed he shoved the pack under his bed and pressed his face into his pillow, partially hoping he would suffocate and not have to deal with any more of this.

* * *

Tetsuro Segawa fumbled for his phone as he tried to pack up his things to go home for the day. He ended up dropping a the clipped stack of papers Natsuki had thrust upon him moments before, but did manage to answer the phone before the third ring. 

"Tetsuro?" His younger sister's voice sounded a little concerned for him, but then he'd answered the phone with a yelp so he wasn't terribly surprised. "Are you alright?"

"Fine, fine." He agreed, retrieving the work he was supposed to be looking at for the SciFi club.

"I'm going shopping with some friends, will you tell our parents?" He sighed in annoyance.

"I am not a messenger service, Mizuki. Besides I'm going over to check on Sho now. He left a weird message on my phone today." He responded.

"I hope he's OK. That fainting business yesterday... I'm worried about him." Her voice was serious and Tetsuro grinned momentarily as he thought of how he could tease his friend about her concern.

He was well aware of the crush the other boy had on his younger sister and was in full support of it. Mizuki could do a lot worse after all, and secretly he was of the opinion that Sho could probably do a lot better (though he assumed that perhaps some of that was a brother's inability to see his sister in any sort of romantic light). That didn't mean he didn't enjoy teasing the younger boy at every opportunity about it though.

"I'm sure he's fine. Probably just worn out, you know how it is for him with just his father around." He offered, packing up his things somewhat more successfully for a second time.

"You're probably right.. actually I bet he got sick just so he could miss the student council meeting today!" She huffed and Tetsuro could practically see the look of indignation on her face over the idea. "He got lucky, the chairman adjourned us early so he didn't miss too much. Anyway, when you get home tell everyone I'll be out late and get something to eat with my friends, ok? Thanks I'll see you later!"

"Hey wait, you tell...! Mizuki!" He glared at the phone as his sister hung up on him abruptly.

She could be such a brat sometimes. With a sigh he headed outside. It was a beautiful day and it was too bad that Sho was sick, he would have liked to have gone up to the lake for a bit. The other boy had sounded kind of odd on the message though, and being the good concerned friend he was, he supposed he could sacrifice a nice afternoon out for him.

* * *

Sho groaned as the doorbell rang and pulled his pillow further over his head. Sleep was good, sleep meant he wasn't aware of his headache. Sleep meant he was not aware of all the insanity going on right then. Sleep meant... 

:should wake up:

Sleep meant no damn voices that should not exist talking to him.

"Sho?" A familiar voice called through his door. He groaned again and forced himself to peek out from under his pillow just as Tetsuro cracked open the door to peek in at him. "Sorry to barge in, but you weren't answering the door."

"S'ok." He mumbled, punching at his pillow weakly in frustration as he drew himself up onto his elbows. The older boy took that as an invitation and entered the room.

"Anyway, I got your message..." Tetsuro paused and looked at Sho hard, his gaze taking in the dark circles and greenish cast to his friends face. "You know, you look terrible, have you been to the doctor?" Tetsuro sat down at his desk and Sho tried to wake himself up enough to talk coherently.

"Mm'fine. I'll go tomorrow if I still feel bad." He offered with a faltering wave. His arm was feeling about as energetic just then as the rest of him though and he gave up on moving and just slumped gracelessly back onto his pillow.

"You know you really freaked out Mizuki yesterday fainting and all. She wanted me to tell you to get better soon and not miss anymore council meetings." Tetsuro teased. Sho groaned in response and considered resuming his attempt to smother himself with a pillow.

"Ugh, I forgot about those." Sho tried to remember what brilliant reason he'd had for joining the student council. It had probably had to do with Mizuki Segawa, because almost all of the stupid stuff he had done when he was young had something to do with her, but just then he couldn't wrap his mind around the specifics.

"Heh, if you forget any more of them my sister will skin you alive." Tetsuro laughed at him. "But you wanted to ask me something?" He prompted, clearly curious. Sho sighed and tried to remember if he'd actually had a question or if he'd just been trying to make sure the other boy was otherwise occupied that afternoon. Probably it had been the later but that didn't mean he couldn't probe his friend for possible ideas since he was there.

"Tetsuro... is there... are there..." He paused frowning as he considered what exactly he wanted to ask. "What do you know about time travel?" He managed finally. Part of him was slapping himself for being stupid enough to ask a question so close to what he guessed was going on, but his friend had always had a real head for this kind of problem. If he was careful about it maybe he could figure out what was going on without tipping the other boy on to just how big of a thing it was.

Tetsuro stared at his friend in confusion. Why on earth Sho would suddenly want to know about time travel was beyond him. His friend humored his Sci-Fi interest, but he'd never gotten the vibe that Sho was really that interested.

"Um... time travel?" Sho turned at looked at him and Tetsuro was a bit startled at the gaze. He'd known Sho for a very long time and he had never seen the other boy look at anything quite like that. It was a piercing look, as if he could see through Tetsuro. It was a questioning look, as if he was trying to ask a thousand questions all at once, and more than that, it was very very serious. Tetsuro didn't think Sho had ever looked that serious before. It was decidedly creepy.

"Uh... I mean, like in what context?" Tetsuro probed hesitantly. Sho sighed and looked away again, a small frown forming on his tired face. Tetsuro was ashamed to admit he was a bit relieved to have the younger's gaze focusing elsewhere.

"Like, how does it work, hypothetically?" Sho wondered, intently studying his ceiling now.

"It depends I guess." Tetsuro mused, trying to think of anything he knew on the subject. "I mean, if you are working with a theory of alternate dimensions then time travel isn't really time travel. When you go backwards you're just creating a split where you backtracked to. The you that's already done things is still going to do those things, but the you that's come 'back in time' will play things out differently that time around causing a separate dimension to be created from the point on from where you went back to." Sho was looking at him again, but the gaze was slightly vacant now and Tetsuro shifted uncomfortably, wondering if such a complex explanation was really something his friend was up to while he wasn't feeling well.

"I don't think that's right." Sho mused, blinking at Tetsuro a bit glassily.

"Um, right... well the other possibility is that the future that existed before the time jump will cease to exist. The problem with that theory is that you'd create an anomaly by doing that, where you couldn't exist because you'd changed something in your past that made you who you were in the future and so you wouldn't come back in time to change the thing that you wanted to change and so nothing would be changed and you'd jump back in time to change it again. There's a related idea that maybe Time is self-healing, and so you can't change the past unless changing it creates the future outcome that was going to occur anyway..." Tetsuro stopped, Sho didn't look like he understood and in truth he was starting to confuse himself between mangling the theory into words and watching his friends obvious lack of clarity.

"What if..." Sho interrupted, picking at his blankets absently as he stared at some point on the wall beyond Tetsuro. "Well... time is like a dimension in itself in a way, right?" He prompted after a pause.

"It could be thought of like that I guess." Tetsuro agreed thoughtfully.

"So what if there was a creature, an alien of some kind maybe... and this creature didn't naturally apply the dimension of time to itself. So then, if say this creature is like a parasite and one day it attaches itself to a human and since humans perceive time it aligns itself to perceive time..."

"If it doesn't exist in time how does it exist?" Tetsuro interrupted wondering how much medication Sho had had before he came over. His friend wasn't the brightest person he'd ever met, but Sho usually at least made some kind of sense when he was speaking.

"It does exist in time... I mean, it doesn't exist in the same time we do, like... we move in time's dimension sequentially right? You get up in the morning and go to school and come home at night and it happens one thing after another. But this hypothetical alien, it doesn't exist sequentially. It lives its moments non-sequentially. So maybe one morning it wakes up and goes home and then its at school and afterwards it eats breakfast. Sometimes it might even do some of those things simultaneously." Sho frowned and stopped since all he seemed to be doing was confusing both of them.

"You mean, for us our sense of time is linear, and for this alien its sense of time is more random?" Tetsuro wondered, hacking together a rough idea of what Sho was suggesting.

"Yeah, more or less. Anyway, if the alien aligned itself to move in time that's linear because its host lived in time that was linear... And say one day something happened to the alien to jolt it back into its own sense of time... maybe it could take the human with it. So then the human would exist for a while in non-linear time while the parasite figured out what happened.. Then when the human got put back into his normal time, he remembers all the time he spent in non-linear time as time spent in the future." Sho paused and rubbed at his eyes.

"Well, I don't know where you came up with that, but its an interesting theory." Tetsuro offered. "Would it be alright if I published it in the Sci-Fi club's newsletter? Natsuki's put me in charge of the next one." Sho snorted a bit in response.

"Sorry, I wish I could help, but I've never heard of anything like that. I guess it would depend on what the host did after he returned to normal time. If he followed the memories of the future to a degree then it wouldn't be like they didn't happen so even if he'd experienced them in the wrong order it wouldn't matter."

"What if he changed things?" Sho picked at a loose thread on his sweatshirt thoughtfully. "Would the future memories just go away because they didn't happen?"

"I don't know. Maybe after awhile of them not happening they'd fade or something." Tetsuro offered, checking his watch. "Look, I have to get home soon. Are you doing OK? Really?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Sho waved off his concern. "I'm just messed up from the cold medicine. Probably not thinking straight." Tetsuro nodded and stood.

"Well, give me a call if you need anything and don't push yourself." The older boy paused. "Really would it be OK to publish that? Its an interesting hypothetical and I haven't been able to come up with anything very good for the newsletter..." Sho laughed at him and Tetsuro smiled, missing the dark look that passed ever so briefly over his friend's face.

"Knock yourself out."

* * *

:can help to feel better: 

The voice, or at least the sensation of it had been annoying him all afternoon. It was almost nervous, flitting across his mind occasionally in a way that aggravated his headache. Until very recently though, it had at least kept more or less 'silent'.

Sho listened to the sounds of his father moving about the house as he turned everything off to go to bed. He'd already been in to check on Sho earlier and had suggested that his son get some rest and go to the doctor in the morning. It didn't sound like a bad idea necessarily, but the part of him that wasn't really a 16yr old kid anymore held far too strong a dislike of the type of inspection that entailed to consider the idea for long.

"No bonding." He muttered at the voice not really sure why he was responding at all.

:can help without: It offered hopefully.

With a sigh Sho reached down to pull his discarded pack out from under the bed. A bit callously he dumped its annoying contents out on the bedspread and sat himself in front of the guyver unit.

"So help." He suggested, glaring at it. The control medallion flashed a few times before settling into a soft pulsing blue glow. He stared at it wondering what it thought it could do to him without attaching itself to his body.

:relax: The voice sounded weird, like it was echoing in his head and oddly enough his headache seemed to ease a bit as he felt himself relax, his heartbeat falling into time with the slow pulsing of the control medal.

:better:

"Yeah." He agreed, starting a bit from the stupor he found he'd dropped into. "We need to talk though, don't we?" He mused reluctantly, stretching a little. He felt a little sleepy now, tired and sore, but it was infinitely better than the nauseating headache that had been plaguing him all day.

:why talk:

"Well, for one I want to know why we can talk.." Sho crossed his eyes as he tried to make sense of his own question for a moment.

Despite the lack of headache his mind still felt a little jumbled, as if someone had reached into his memories with a spoon and rattled them around so they didn't quite fall into place the way they should. He remembered going to school last week, there had been a test in math. He recalled walking home with Tetsuro and his father's unfortunate incident that had spelled the end of their old toaster. He also remembered tearing a zoaniod's head from its body, piloting a spaceship on its return trip to Earth and being entombed in the remains of a relic for nearly six months as if all those events had happened only days before.

"I mean, you never talked to me before." He clarified, trying to find any recollections to the contrary and coming up dry.

:sleeping before: It offered thoughtfully by way of explanation.

"What woke you up? Are the other units asleep too?" He asked, leaning forward to rest his chin on a hand as he considered the ramifications of that.

:shock then fused with the brain had to reprogram self:

:other units not asleep wrong kind of asleep:

Sho tried to make sense of that as he studied the familiar/unfamiliar object that was placed so innocently before him. It took a little bit of translation, but he thought he got the jist of it.

"So the other units are... what? Dead?" He prompted.

:not dead not awake but not asleep:

"You mean they're not self aware." He clarified abruptly as the words panged slightly with familiarity.

:not able to be asleep: The voice paused, probably cycling through its own sort of translation.

:yes: It agreed finally.

"So you can talk to me now because you are self-aware suddenly... because you used my brain to reprogram yourself." He guessed.

:this is approximately correct: It agreed.

"You're not still using my brain are you?" He worried, rubbing his head in concern. The idea was not an especially appealing one.

:no need:

"This has something to do with why you can talk to me even though you're not still attached doesn't it?" He pressed.

:understand your brain now: It agreed again.

Sho sighed and glanced up, considering his reflection in the polished surface of his closet door. The blue glow from the unit's control medallion cast eerie shadows on his face. He thought his reflection looked a bit like a ghost, which was rather appropriate since he felt a bit like one just then.

:like your brain: The voice continued, its 'tone' what Sho guessed to be cheerful or maybe hopeful.

"No bonding." He returned darkly, debating a bit on the futility of glaring at something that didn't have eyes to observe the look.

:no bonding: it repeated mournfully.

"Do you know anything about what Tetsuro said earlier? Will I eventually forget everything from the future?" He couldn't keep the wistful lilt out of his voice. To have a chance at normalcy was something he'd dreamed of for eons. To finish school, get a boring job, marry a pretty girl, make babies and die.

And then stay dead. That was always the catch to the scenario.

:unsure:

:human mind deals not well with other-time:

:possible it forgets for preservation of self:

"If I'm going to forget..." Sho looked back down at the unit. He had hated the guyver for years, and later come to accept it and what it did for him to a degree... but he had never really grown to like it...

The unit before him seemed strangely innocent though. The soft blue glow of the control medal felt passive and nonthreatening. But more than that, it was self-aware, seemingly at least partly because of him. Sentience, as far as he was concerned at least, meant it deserved a certain amount of respect.

"I could... find you another host if you'd like." He offered after a moment's consideration.

:do not wish to bond with another: It sounded distressed at the idea and Sho almost felt bad for it.

"Is there anything else you'd like then?"

:mine back: It sounded wistful now and Sho supposed from its mental tone it had accepted for the time being that he wasn't going to let it bond with him.

He contemplated at it for a long time. He'd never wondered what the guyver thought of him, because he'd never thought it capable of having an opinion. The unit sounded... fond though. It was a hard concept to wrap his mind around.

"I don't want you back." He responded finally. The words sounded harsher aloud than he'd intended them to and he felt a small pang of guilt as soon as he'd said them.

:wish to stay with: it insisted sadly

:will not take without permission: it promised.

"All right." He agreed. "But less talking to me, especially when I'm in public. As you were kind enough to point out earlier, talking to yourself is something that tends to be frowned upon."

* * *

:unit-g's mental communications: 

**Next time**: Sho gets in touch with his inner-teenager, Mizuki reveals she is really from flatland and Tetsuro wonders if he's stepped into the twilight zone.


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes: ** Appologies for the long break between chapters. Classes have started back in for me and my time is being eaten by unpleasent things like Calculus.

I struggled with this chapter. Its one of those bits that fits between point A and point B on my plot notes. Needed to happen to move forward, but it was a bit like pulling teeth.

Also thanks to the people that have reviewed. It does keep me motivated!

**Rating:** PG-13 for swearing and violence.

**Summary: **Sho tries to reconcile reality with memory, and the boy he was with whatever he seems to be becoming now.

**Chapter 2 – Small Glimpses of Normal

* * *

**

"Morning!" Fumio Fukamachi started as his son entered the breakfast room the next morning. The boy looked oddly chipper for having been dead sick just the night before and the older man boggled for a moment at the resilience of youth.

"ah... good morning." He responded, smiling warmly at the boy as he sat accross from him.

"Its good to see you father." Sho grinned brightly at him and Fumio wondered when the last time he'd seen his son smile so easily was. He blinked a few times as the youth cheerfully turned towards breakfast, seemingly intent on stuffing as much food into himself as possible.

"You're feeling better then?" He managed after the momentary surprise had worn off. He'd expected to go upstairs shortly to try and convince his son to go to the doctor. The boy had looked completely miserable when he had checked on him the night before. While it wasn't common for Sho to be sick, his father knew from experience that when he was it tended to be bad.

"Very much." Sho agreed between mouthfuls.

Fumio looked down at his own breakfast. He supposed youth did have its advantages, and maybe some of the perceived paleness in his son's face the night before could be attributed to poor lighting. He just hoped Sho wasn't pushing his recovery unnecessarily.

"That's good." He offered finally. Sho smiled at him again in response.

"I'm really fine, it was probably just a short bug. Its the right time of year for it." And that was true enough, even if Fumio hadn't heard of any of those bugs having caused fainting spells. It was always possible his son had just taken a worse hit than others because he was stressed about something, or not sleeping enough.

"All right, but if you start to feel bad again go see the doctor, OK?" He pressed, his paternal instinct demanding some sort of attempt to insure the boy was really recovered and going to stay that way.

"Of course." Sho nodded agreeably.

Somehow in spite of that promise, Fumio still worried. Sho was a strong kid, it wasn't like him to be sick and it was even less like him to be so cheerful afterwards. Making a mental note to keep a closer eye on the boy for a few days, Fumio turned to his own breakfast.

There really was no arguing with kids these days. Sho would tell him what was going on eventually. In the meantime, his father could only hope it wasn't something dangerous or illegal.

* * *

"Tetsuro!" Tetsuro Segawa turned at the call, surprised to find it was Sho that was calling at him. He stopped on his way to school, watching as the other boy jogged to catch up. 

"Should you be running?" He wondered at his friend. Sho looked alright, but he'd also looked like death not 24hours before and even Sho Fukamachi and his sometimes seeming imperviousness to disease didn't tend to get over illnesses quite that fast.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." Sho waved him off, smiling as he fell into step with Tetsuro. "It was just a short thing probably. I woke up and felt great."

Tetsuro stared at him for a very long moment, but all he could see was sincerity and pleasure at being well again in his friend. Shrugging it off as one of those odd teenage things, he decided to let the matter drop for the time being.

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling better then. You know this will just make Mizuki think she was right that you skipped out on the Student Council Meeting yesterday though?" He prompted, hoping his sister was in a better mood that day than she'd been the night before. It was really her own fault she'd been chewed out by their mother for staying out so late, but she wasn't always the best at taking responsibility for her actions.

"Ugh. I almost forgot about that." Sho groaned and slumped a little at the idea.

"Go in with a grovelling attitude and you should be fine." Tetsuro clapped him on the shoulder, causing the smaller boy to stumble forward a few paces. Sho glared at him in mock annoyance as he straightened.

"Thanks so much for the encouragement." He retorted wryly.

"Least I could do." Tetsuro grinned, ignoring the barb. "Hey do you have time to stop by after class and help me with some things for the SciFi club? I was thinking more about what you were saying about time dimensions yesterday and I might have some ideas."

"Um... sure." Sho flushed a little at the mention of his slightly odd questions the previous day. "Sure, I'll stop by after the final bell." He agreed, sounding a bit more subdued as he kicked at a loose rock in the pavement. Tetsuro let him sulk a bit, staring at the school as it came into view before them. Sho might be feeling a bit awkward about his ideas from the day before, but they hadn't been bad, and Tetsuro fully intended to wrangle a better discussion of them out of his friend that afternoon.

* * *

Sho yawned as the teacher read to them in English. He hadn't recalled school being quite this dull, but then this subject in particular was one that he wasn't finding very challenging just then. In large part because of the Arizona plant and Makishima's connections in America, his English had long ago become reasonably competent. Reviewing it seemed like a waste of time. 

The other classes had been much the same. Some of the things they taught he knew were wrong or would be proven inadequate ideas at some point in the future, others came easily enough after a measure of experience. Those that fell into a category of challenging were topics he'd never used in real life and he had trouble dragging forth the enthusiasm to learn when he knew they would be of negligible help once his schooling was finished.

Only half awake, he started a little when the bell rang to signal class was over. As he stood to pack up his notebooks before heading across campus to look for Tetsuro he had to admit to himself there were downsides to normalcy. Sitting through the next two years of school and then college looked likely to be a big one if he could barely stay awake through one full day of classes.

The instructors had humored him that day, no doubt all of them were aware about his fainting spell the day before, but Sho knew that wouldn't always be the case. He'd start getting into trouble if he kept dozing during lectures.

"Sho Fukamachi!" An irate female voice shook him out of his slight stupor as he closed up his satchel.

"Mizuki." He greeted, blinking at her a few times. Tetsuro had warned him she was a bit peeved over his missing the council meeting that morning, so he supposed he should just be thankful her chiding had held off until the end of the day.

"You look fine I see. You were better yesterday weren't you? Playing hooky to avoid being at the meeting yesterday." She accused, stalking up and poking him in the chest.

Sho stared down at her. There were many things he'd forgotten about Mizuki over the years, either because she'd grown out of the habits eventually or because time had made the memories of them vague. He had forgotten her childish tendency to take out her frustrations on him. When they had been young he had always been willing to take the abuse, his generally laid-back personality and dislike of confrontation causing him to roll over and give her someone to vent on. It hadn't been a wise way of interacting with another person in the long run, and they'd argued about it years later on more than one occasion.

Around them, he could see the few straggling students left in the room, waiting to watch the argument. He had always hated that she didn't seem to care about their audience during these fits of indignation.

"If you weren't planning to take the council seriously, Sho, you shouldn't have joined." She continued, her hauty posture indication she was preparing for a long involved dressing down. "Its an important position to hold, it requires a lot of responsibility, you can't keep conveniently forgetting about meetings and such things."

"I'm surprised you noticed I wasn't there." He mused, feeling an irrational annoyance at her bubble up. He's long since grown out of letting people walk all over him and perhaps in responce he'd developed a bit of a quick temper when talked down to. It flared now and he stared down at her in irritation.

"Weren't you kept busy enough watching Makishima?" He pressed, acknowledging and squashing the small bit of guilt he felt making the accusation. The shocked look on her face was priceless. The old him, the child, was as shocked and horrified at what he'd said as she looked. The part of him that was someone else entirely was pleased to have knocked her down a notch.

"You..." She whispered, sputtering a bit as she flushed with what was no doubt a mixture of anger and embarrassment. "You're one to talk! You think I don't know you only joined to spend time with me? You think I'm oblivious to it?" She demanded. Her eyes spitting at him. "You're so stupid, Sho! I encouraged it too, you know, because I know you and you won't ever do anything about it so its just fine. Its just fine."

Sho felt something cold settle into his stomach at that admission. She seemed to freeze at the same moment, apparently realizing her words too late. He turned away from her then, his face falling into an unreadable mask as he picked up his things and turned to leave, stepping around her frozen form.

"S..Sho!" The call gave him pause for just a moment at the door, but nothing else was forthcoming and so he left.

* * *

Tetsuro jumped almost a foot in the air as Sho slammed open the door to the room the SciFi club. He didn't look angry exactly, but he didn't look right either. 

"I can't talk to you about this." Sho's voice was flat and when he looked up and Tetsuro met his gaze he felt himself go cold at the oddly hollow quality in the younger man's gaze.

"You can't print it. Its important you don't print it. Don't think about it ever again, don't speak of it, just forget I ever said anything about it." Sho's eyes were dark and dilated as they pinned him to his seat with an unspoken threat that Tetsuro didn't understand. "Take me seriously just this once Tetsuro and let it go. I can't tell you why, but if you've ever trusted me, trust me now and promise me you'll never discuss this with anyone ever again. Not even me."

"O... okay." He agreed, freaked out by the youth that was speaking to him. Whomever it was he could barely believe it was Sho. "I promise... but Sho..."

"Thank you." His friends reply cut off any question he might have asked. "I have to go."

And just like that Sho ducked out of the room as if he'd never even stopped by.

Tetsuro Segawa sat for several minutes in mild shock. Trying to resolve what had just happened with his long time friend. It was a very poor fit.

* * *

The door rattled against the force of the slam as Sho stormed into his room. He was angry, but it was hard at that very moment to pinpoint exactly what or who he was angry with. Shaking with the force of the emotion he let his school satchel slide carelessly to the floor, sinking down beside it and leaning back against his bed. 

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he'd stumbled upon the guyver unit all those years ago. It wasn't fair that even after he'd seemingly managed to undo the event it still echoed all around him. His memories of things that hadn't happened yet colored everything now.

He'd daydreamed so often about being able to go back, to live a normal life. He had it all planned out, he and Mizuki and Tetsuro would finish High School. He'd go to the same college Mizuki did afterwards, and eventually he'd ask her out. They'd get married a few years later. He'd get a satisfying, if somewhat boring, job doing something mundane... maybe something to do with journalism or the media, because that was kind of like staying in touch with the action without having to be in it... and also maybe because it reminded him of a good friend.

They'd have two or three kids, cute things that would swarm him every night when he came home from work asking for him to tell them stories or wanting to show him what they'd done that day.

It was all going to be just fucking wonderful.

In truth he'd always known it was a pipe-dream. It was the ideal life with no details to clutter it up and no acknowledgement of the inevitable issues doomed to come up in such a scenario. There were no sulky teenagers to deal with, no fights with his wife over all the things a married couple was doomed to fight over and no nightmares of death and dying to haunt him at night.

It was beautiful and perfect in its illusion and also completely impossible in real life. It was a shattering blow to have to face that truth.

"She used me..." He tried the words on for size. They felt bitter on his tongue and he knocked his head back against his mattress, adamantly ignoring the sting of tears that were forming.

"She used me." He repeated more firmly. It wasn't a hard concept to grasp mentally. Mizuki was young, hardly more than a little girl really, and children were nothing if not petty and cruel at her age. She had seen him as a nice backup to have around. Someone that would always make her feel attractive and wanted, that would agree with her, and put up with her moods and tell her she was beautiful even after knowing all her faults.

Emotionally facing the idea was not so easy.

It was possible that in another life time it wouldn't have mattered. They would have grown up eventually and she would have looked at the world and at him with the eyes of a woman and not a child. There was no guarantee she would want what she saw, but she might have. Now though... now though he was very old inside and had seen too much of her to wait. She would not look around to see the him he could have been without the guyver after all. She would grown up and look around and see someone damaged and shaped by a life she would never know and she wouldn't understand what to make of him.

When she'd died before, she'd died married to another man. There had been two children, both boys that had been very handsome and very bright. Six grandchildren, almost all girls and all but one thanks to her younger son who loved children entirely too much for his own sanity. Sho had spent some time with the youngest of those girls many years later. She had been the spitting image of her grandmother and he wasn't afraid to admit that was why he'd been fond of her.

Her name had been Hitomi and she'd passed away sometime while he was asleep. He'd never suffered any further desire to rediscover any other family from her line after that.

:she is past now:the voice that echoed in his mind was very unwelcome just then.

"Shut up. What do you know? This is all your fault anyway. I should have left you to rot on Narisawa." He growled. His only response was a vaguely subdued sense of hurt. For some reason the sentiment only made him angrier. "I hate you! I hate you and I hate her and I hate this life!" He raged, finding the nearest object at hand to throw. The empty glass shattered against the far wall in a rain of tiny fragments.

As if it had taken all his remaining energy to make the throw he found himself curled in on himself then, the tears he'd been fighting off flowing freely. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. He was doomed all over again and there was nothing he could do about it.

"I'm sorry." He managed after a moment not sure exactly what he meant, but trying anyway. There was nothing but silence in response, and for some reason that made everything feel infinitely worse.

* * *

:communications from the guyver unit: 

:mental communication by others:

**Next Time**: Agito gets beat up, Risker cameos and Sho and his imaginary friend resolve to take over the world. Or something like that.


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes: **I hate writing Makishima. If I keep him in line with my perception of his character he runs away with my plot (generally in the wrong direction). If I force him to do as I tell him he ends up OOC.

Also because someone commented on it – no Sho hasn't forgotten X-day. I reread the last chap and that may have seemed like an idiosyncrasy, I didn't mean it to. I was writing from the perspective that he was going through a lot emotionally and part of the point was that life wasn't going to be the way he wanted it to.

next chap there will be fighting.

Just FYI: May be a month or so before I get to post again after this.

**Summary: **Sho contemplates youth, oblivion and the possible side-effects of his interference thus far. Everyone else contemplates Sho.

**Chapter 3 – Inevitability

* * *

**

Sho settled into his seat, dutifully avoiding Mizuki's gaze as the remainder of the student council filtered in for the meeting. He felt bad for yelling at her and for avoiding her for the past week, though the latter was somewhat of a mutual evasion of one another, but it had needed to be said. She had no right to accuse him of bad intentions when she was only a member of this council to flirt with its chairman. It was worse for her because Makishima was dangerous, and not in any of the ways she could be made to understand.

He glanced up as the chairman entered looking as calm as ever. Somehow he'd expected the youth to abruptly look like he'd remembered his future self, ruthless and hardened... But the Agito Makishima before him appeared, superficially at least, as kind and innocent as the person Mizuki believed him to be. It was a small blow to Sho's ego to realize he'd allowed the man's future actions to color his own perception of him. He had been too young at the time to be aware of it, but the Agito Makishima that existed parallel to his own youth was also still a child in many ways. He already had his ambitions to be sure, but it would be years still before they truly began to consume him.

"Lets begin please." Makishima's voice was younger too, it still held that same smooth, persuasive lilt, but something about it was softer, less demanding. "Lets start off with the reports from the clubs." The chairman smiled kindly and nodded to the young woman to his left, she stood cheerfully and began with her list of happenings. Sho tuned her out in favor of studying his hands.

He wondered a bit if Makishima had managed to activate the unit after all. He'd seen the reports of the explosion and everything fit with his past memory but he was having trouble reconciling the boy that sat across the room from him with his memories of Guyver III. At the back of his mind was a soft questioning prod and he blinked a few times, staring down at where he was doodling the rough shape of the gigantic pod in his notebook.

He leaned forward a bit, feigning interest in the club reports in an effort to obscure the drawing. He had grown used to the passive awareness that had settled in at the back of his mind, but it had remained as he had requested of it; quiet since that night. Almost it was to the point that he'd forgotten about it's presence.

:You need something: He wondered, hoping that it could follow his thoughts as well as his voice, because talking aloud was not much of an option just then.

:can tell you: It offered a bit hesitantly.

:Tell me what: Sho let his gaze slide subtly from the speaker to watch Makishima again. The youth was oblivious to him, which made perfect sense really. He was not a guyver anymore, and had no other connections to Chronos. Agito Makishima would not have any reason to carry any concern for him whatsoever. He wondered idly how he should feel about the casual disregard.

:if he has activated a unit: it supplied, sounding a little stronger at his lack of rebuttal to its presence. Sho felt a small pang of guilt for being so hard on it. He hated what the unit had done to him in his other lifetime, but as with all things it was more complicated than that and he'd effectively told a being that had only recently come into awareness it couldn't speak to the only creature it knew how to communicate with.

:Does he: He wondered agreeably, looking back down at his drawing. With a small frown he set to erasing it. There was a long pause, and he felt a slight withdrawal as the unit strained itself to evaluate the young man. If the chairman noticed the sudden scrutiny he didn't make any sign of it.

:he does: came the response finally. Sho nodded inwardly and looked back towards Makishima. He was dutifully taking notes on the report. It had been unlikely that the youth would fail to use one, but he felt strangely reassured to know for sure.

:His unit can't detect you looking: He wondered, curious now. Always the other guyver unit had been able to detect his own. He'd never been able to get anything past Makishima in large part because of that. It would not be inconvenient if the other units couldn't detect the inactive one's scrutiny.

:not the same: it offered a bit hesitantly.

Sho wondered at that as he felt the voice withdraw back to its place as a passive observer. Did that mean Makishima's unit was not the same, or was it something about Sho himself?

* * *

"... today's explosion in the warehouse district. Fortunately no one was injured. Police suspect it was caused by a gas leak nearby. The area will remain closed until the investigation can be completed." Sho paused as he ate, staring at the cheery newswoman that was speaking. 

"What's the world coming to these days?" His father sighed across from his as he stared at the TV in dismay. "Bad things do always seem to come in waves don't they? First that mess with the Narisawa area and now this." Sho smiled faintly.

"Yeah." He agreed vaguely, turning back to his food. It was nice, to pretend that there was nothing wrong. That there was no reason to be worried about a random explosion across town. And it was entirely possible there wasn't, it could very easily be just another industrial accident.

He knew in his gut that such a relatively nonthreatening possibility was very unlikely, but if he could just ignore the part of him that knew the truth... he could almost remember what it was like before... could almost grasp his lost youth.

"How was your day, father?" He shoved his concern to the back of his mind, determined to enjoy being with his father. After all, as the small voice of his conscience reminded him, this peaceful stasis he'd wrapped himself in might not last for very much longer.

* * *

The buzz around school the next day was about Agito Makishima's curious absence. Apparently someone had broken into his home the night before and he was in the hospital. Sho very much doubted that was the truth, but he kept his opinion on the matter to himself. 

"Mizuki is planning to go over after school to take him cards and things from the other students." Tetsuro informed him during lunch. His friend was watching him carefully for a reaction and Sho felt bad again for yelling at his sister over the older student.

It had been stupid to fight over anyway. Eventually Agito would leave in search of his own destiny and the girl would get over her silly crush on him. But something about her admission that she knew he was only on the council to spend time with her had pushed him over the edge. Too often in his life people had used him like that. To know that Mizuki had done so in their youth was a cutting revelation. As much as he wanted to go back to being the boy he was, he was also very tired of being used... and being the same as he always had been meant letting it happen.

"That's nice of her." He offered, picking at his food as he wondered over what was really going on with Makishima. It was harder than he'd expected to ignore things and let go of a fight that really wasn't any of his business anymore. He didn't think Makishima was the type to be instigating a fight yet, it wouldn't be strategically sound, but something was clearly going on if the explosion last night was caused by what he believed it was and if the older boy had felt the need to skip school that day.

"I thought you might be upset." Tetsuro prodded. Tetsuro had alternately been walking on eggshells around his friend and pressing him tentatively to forgive his sister for most of the week. Sho supposed he had the right to be concerned after the bizarre confrontation they'd had just after his fight with Mizuki. All the same, the older boy had respected his request that day and refrained from mentioning anything about _that_ topic again.

"I don't own your sister, Tetsuro. She can do as she likes." He returned, frowning a little as he looked out the window they were seated next to. The sky outside was a stunning blue, the unseasonably pleasant weather at odds with the turmoil of his life.

"I know. I guess its just... I don't agree with what she said the other day, but she didn't mean it to hurt you or anything. Sometimes she can just be a bit careless about other people's feelings." Tetsuro stabbed at his lunch morosely as he spoke. Sho stared at him, really seeing him for the first time in a long time.

Tetsuro had always been a good friend. Genuinely insightful, he saw the worst in people but with those close to him generally dismissed it for the best of them. His sister was a good example. The boy loved her dearly, but he wasn't oblivious to her shortcomings. Sho was another. Tetsuro had always known his younger friend was not the brightest of the bright, nor the strongest willed, but he'd ignored his failings over and over and praised his loyalty.

Sometimes Sho felt that he overlooked other's failings to his own detriment.

"She is sorry for hurting you, you know." Tetsuro added after a long moment of strained silence. And that was the cusp of it really, because his friends had never meant to damage him but without fail they always did, just by being his friends. And for their unintentional crimes he had always managed to damage them three-fold in return.

"I know. She always will be." Sho agreed sadly. She would always be sorry for what she put him through, just as he would always be sorry for the damage done to her because of him. And just as he would always be unable to prevent her from being thrown into danger.

"Why don't... why don't we go with her to the hospital?" Sho suggested, squelching the small bit of regret he felt at using her for such a thing. It was a necessary evil, and she had used him in no less innocent ways. "I don't want things to awkward between us... just, maybe as a gesture to show there's no hard feelings." He looked back at the window. There was a cloud passing over that cast a long shadow across the school. Sho shivered inwardly at it, wondering if it would rain that evening.

"Yeah, that might be nice. It would probably look good for the student council too so I'm sure she'll agree." Tetsuro offered him a lopsided grin, apparently thinking that this would be the end of the whole mess.

Sho smiled sadly knowing how wrong his friend was.

* * *

Sho leaned against the door jamb of the school's main exit as he waited for the Segawas to round up whatever mess of things the student body had seen fit to gift their illustrious council president. Closing his eyes he mentally reached for the silent presence that hovered just outside of his concious awareness. It responded with curiosity at his prodding as he opened his eyes to survey the schoolyard. 

In the nearest field the soccer team was practicing for an upcoming game, in the bleachers behind them several girls sat giggling and watching them. The looked young, happy, innocent. He felt a wave of nostalgia pass over him at the sight.

:don't fit anymore:

The now soft voice was strangely sympathetic. Sho smiled sadly and looked up at the sky. It was too blue to be real, he thought. Too perfect to exist in a world that was pulling apart at its seams. But this world didn't seem to know that it was failing yet. Didn't realize it would disappear soon... become something else entirely.

:I can't remember the last time I saw any of the things around me... I mean, really _saw_ them:

:hard to see forest for trees: it agreed, settling into a more concious part of his mind.

:Will you stay with me: He requested softly, turning again to watch the children he didn't really understand anymore. :There are things I need to know today... things you can help me with I think:

:always with you:

And of course that wasn't what he'd meant exactly, but the other presence stayed where he'd invited it and he knew it understood what he was really requesting.

:Thank you:

Sho smiled faintly at the small thread of pleasure he detected from it.

"Sho?" The slightly hesitant voice drew him from his thoughts and he turned to find Mizuki and Tetsuro walking towards him. He smiled at the girl. She was an important part of his past, and though he was sad to let go of her, it occurred to him in that moment that she'd been lost to him for so long he'd fallen out of love with her and fallen in love with a perception of her. She was a beautiful memory, but a memory that could not be lived up to.

"Mizuki. I'm sorry about the other day. I had no right to say those things to you." He apologized. She flushed and looked down, and he could read her guilt in every line of her painfully young visage.

"No... you had every right, Sho." She whispered in distress. He smiled at her kindly and placed a hand on her shoulder lightly. She looked up at him in surprise.

"We're OK now." He assured her. She smiled shyly, nodding as she blinked back a few tears.

"Well good then!" Tetsuro enthused, shattering the remaining tension. "Let's get a move on, maybe after we check on Mr. Perfect we can go get something to eat, huh?"

"Brother!" Mizuki glared at her older sibling in mortification. Sho chuckled inwardly, falling into step just behind the two siblings as they set out.

:sad: observed his psychic companion. Sho supposed that was an accurate enough perception of his emotions just then.

:these two are my past: Sho offered, thought it hadn't really been a question. :Its like walking through a favorite photograph, wonderful, but bittersweet, because I can admit its not real anymore: He laughed as Tetsuro flipped casually through some of the notes Mizuki had been given to pass on to Makishima. His sister seemed horrified at her brother's actions and was berating him for invading the privacy of their authors. :Someday its going to end, and I'm going to be alone again:

:not alone:

Sho's step faltered at the sincerity of the statement.

"Sho?" Tetsuro looked at him in confusion.

:not alone: he agreed finally, grinning inwardly at the irony of it all.

"Sorry, its nothing." He smiled reassuringly at the older boy and jogged a few steps to catch back up, grabbing one of the notes from Mizuki to read curiously.

"Sho! Not you too!" The younger Segawa swatted at him in disapproval.

* * *

"No hard feelings I hope?" Sho frowned at the oddly familiar voice that seemed to stand out in the array of sounds that echoed through the hospital. It was only very vaguely familiar, but he couldn't help but feel like it belonged to someone important. 

"Ah! This is it." Mizuki looked up at the room number before them, double-checking it to the one she'd written down at the nurse's station. "Mr. Makishima?" She inquired politely, ducking her head into the room just as a tall blond foreigner moved to exit it. Sho frowned at him as he passed, only sparing the students a cursory glance. There was something about him...

:guyver: informed the voice, and Sho could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand-up as he felt recognition sink in. Risker.

:shit. Is the unit damaged still: He wondered, watching as the other man stood awaiting the elevator at the end of the hall. The presence withdrew partly and Sho held his breath, staring warily at Oswald Risker's back. The man seemed to sense the scrutiny for he turned and for one heart stopping moment met Sho's gaze, offering him a predatory grin that the boy found entirely disturbing.

"Sho? You coming?" Tetsuro was looking at him sympathetically, no doubt assuming his hesitation had to do with not wanting to see Makishima. Sho broke away from Risker's gaze and ducked into the room.

:did he sense you: He demanded nervously.

:no: it returned, finally settling back against his awareness.

:is it damaged: He pressed.

There was another long pause and Sho felt his stomach drop. If the second guyver unit was undamaged that changed everything.

Everything.

:no:

Sho felt a shiver arch down his spine at that revelation.

* * *

Agito Makishima saved his murderous glare for Oswald's Risker's backside. The man was pure vermin, it was entirely his fault he was in the hospital being treated for a broken arm. He'd been reckless, careless and utterly stupid, playing with the guyver unit he'd bonded with as if it were some sort of toy. He'd destroyed three offices in the Chronos Japan building and killed nearly two dozen zoaniods doing "experiments" to determine the powers of the active unit-g. 

While Agito could find the data acquired by such things useful, he did not find being injured by the idiot's methods of getting the information at all amusing.

"Mr. Makishima?" A polite feminine voice broke into his thoughts, and he forced himself to put on a pleasant facade for the Segawa girl. On top of everything else going wrong just then, it wouldn't do to screw up his position at the school.

"Yes? Come in." He managed to force what he hopped was the right amount of appreciation into his voice at her visit. He was only marginally surprised to find she was with two other classmates, her brother whom he'd been in classes with up until a year ago, and the student council secretary, Fukamachi. The later of the three seemed distracted, and kept looking over his shoulder as if he'd seen a ghost. Makishima frowned inwardly at the boy, but couldn't find any reason in his memory to think Fukamachi might know Risker or anything else of import that could be causing him to be jittery.

"We brought your homework, and some of the students asked me to give you these." Segawa placed a series of notes and cards on the bedside table. He smiled politely at her and she blushed. "I hope you're feeling better soon."

"Its broken, I'm afraid." He gestured to his left arm, which was bandaged and in a sling. "I should be back at school tomorrow though. The doctor plans to clear me in a few hours." He reassured her. Just behind her, Fukamachi had stopped fidgeting and was staring morosely out the inadequate window beside Agito's bed.

"It must be horrible." The girl looked distressed. "Does it hurt a lot?"

"Not much." He consoled with a smile.

"We can't stay long." Her brother cut in and Agito smothered a thankful sigh that he wouldn't have to play the polite council president for much longer. "But we did want to let you know if you need any help to let us know." Tetsuro Segawa grinned at him in that slightly distracted way Agito had always associated with him. He respected the other youth's intellect well enough, but he'd come to disregard the other's judgement over time. Segawa could be insightful when he wanted to be, but he could also be very oblivious.

"Of course, thank you for your concern." He kept the comment friendly, but it was not unclear that it was a mild dismissal.

"We're glad you'll be OK." The girl bowed slightly. "I guess we'll see you at school tomorrow then. Please do let us know if you need help with anything. It must be harder to get around things with such an injury."

"Yes, I'll do that." He agreed amiably, squashing the thread of annoyance that rose at the mention of how frustrating the injury would undoubtedly going to be.

"Good evening then." Tetsuro offered, not so subtly steering his sister from the room. Fukamachi was still staring out the window. He started a little as the two siblings brushed past him before turning to face Agito. For just a moment there was something about his gaze that startled the upper-class man, but almost as quickly that something was gone and Agito wondered if it were just a trick of poor lighting.

"Do get better soon." Fukamachi offered politely, bowing quickly before he turned to follow his friends from the room. Agito frowned a little after him, but he couldn't put his finger on anything really suspicious about the boy and after a few moments consideration he opted to ignore any oddities for the time being. There would be plenty of chances to observe him in the future after all.

* * *

Sho listened to the message his father had left him without really hearing it. It was standard fare. -Working late, don't wait up- he'd heard enough messages like it and with relative frequency not to really need to pay attention to the specifics. 

Makishima had been injured. A broken arm wasn't exactly minor, but it was hard to tell what precisely could have caused it. The guyver unit would heal the damage if he activated it, but there was no telling if the other boy knew that. Even if he was aware of it, Sho wouldn't have put it past him to suffer the break to keep his activation of a unit under wraps. Without more information on what had really happened there wasn't any way to guess which scenario it was.

He was more concerned by the presence of Oswald Risker though. The man had been dangerous with a faulty unit, if he had an undamaged one, he would present threefold the obstacle he had before. Having fought both of them, Sho suspected that if it came to an equal fight between Makishima and Risker the battle would edge slightly towards the latter's favor.

There was more to be considered than just that of course. At the moment, unless Risker was vastly ahead of his memories, the other guyver did not yet understand all of his weaponry. Even Makishima had taken several months to fully test his unit (and Sho's for that matter) before all of the guyver's arsenal were at his use. He still had a chance to do damage control if he acted quickly...

And that was the catch really. Sho felt his blood run cold at the idea of it. He'd spent so long wanting it to be over... and now it was, he was home... he was home and normal... except...

Except this wasn't exactly home anymore. And he wasn't ever going to be normal. Not in any of the ways that counted.

The family picture that sat in the kitchen stared up at him. It had been taken when he was 4. His parents were both alive and smiling. It was the last family photo they'd taken together. He missed his mother, and even though he had seen the man every day for years he missed his father as well. Fumio Fukamachi had changed after his wife's death, but more than that Sho had changed. Part of him had lost his father years ago and he did not wholly recognize the man anymore.

"Like walking through a photograph..." He mused to himself, reaching out towards the glass-covered image but not quite finding it in himself to pick it up. The burden of knowledge weighed heavily on his shoulders and he found his hand dropping back to his side.

Exhaling with the pain of it all he turned his back on the photograph and headed up to his room. The pack containing the unit-g felt heavier than he'd remembered, as if it knew the weight it was asking him to bear once more. The control medal glinted faintly as he pulled it out, but it made no attempt to do more.

"Can we do this right?" He wondered to it. "Can we change things? Make them better?"

:can do different: it offered as he stared down into his reflection in the metal's surface.

The face looking back at him was distorted and if he squinted he could almost see Guyver I's reflection in place of his own. The mask of the armor was familiar, and he could acknowledge just then that he'd grown to identify it as his own face as readily as the human features that he'd been born with.

"No one can know. If Chronos finds out again, it will be all the worst parts made real. I can't bear to go through that a second time. I won't hurt my friends or family again." He whispered.

:know things: It offered.

"I know. Its not the same as before. It doesn't have to be the same." He felt his hand fist at his side. If he was willing to give up this dream... if he was willing to put aside being normal... being Sho Fukamachi... he had a chance to change some of the horror he knew was coming. Really there was no decision to be made.

:can change: it agreed, and the control medallion pulsed.

* * *

**Next time:** The world forgets how to count, Sho tries out being a badass, and Agito gets lost somewhere between 'minor head injuries' and 'spontaneous implosion of intellect'. Also, Risker fall down, go boom. 


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes: **Sho deserves to be a badass once in a while. Usually he is depicted as a crybaby, but somewhere down the line he's bound to grow up, and once he does I am confident in his badassness. Thus, I give you evilish Guyver I... or is it III?

Also - writing Makishima still gives me headaches.

**Rating: **PG-15 for swearing, violence and gore.

**Summary: **Sho tries to figure out how circumstances have changed his old/new guyver unit. Meanwhile, Risker goes AWOL and Makishima panics.

**Chapter 4 – The Mysterious Guyver III

* * *

**

Sho rubbed at his shoulder in surprise the next morning. There was nothing there and he found it decidedly odd to be missing the old tumors.

:can put them back if youd like:

:No thanks: He grinned inwardly as he fixed breakfast. :Its not that I ever liked them or anything, I just kind of expected them:

:for communication:  
:unnecessary now:

That was certainly true. He had been communicating with the unit for almost two weeks without it even being active. It wasn't as if they needed any help in that department.

He grinned brightly to himself, feeling inordinately cheery considering the circumstances, and turned as he heard his father enter the kitchen.

"Good morning!" Fumio Fukamachi blinked at him a few times in surprise.

"ah... good morning, Sho." His father looked a little startled as he sat down. Sho suspected it was mostly due to the fact that his son was not exactly a morning person. Humming a little under his breath, Sho carried breakfast to the table.

"I didn't hear you come in last night. How was work?" He inquired.

"Fine, fine. We're in the middle of a large project though, so there may be some more late nights for me the next couple of weeks." The older man looked apologetic.

"Ah, maybe I'll eat out some this week then." Sho offered. He had never been especially fond of spending nights alone at the house, but he had to admit that it was convenient he wouldn't have to explain away any of his own tardiness for awhile.

"That would be fine. I'll leave you some money." His father offered readily enough, searching his jacket pocket for a wallet. After a cursory examination he frowned and stood up. "I must have left it on my dresser... I'll be right back."

Sho smiled fondly as his father left. He hadn't always appreciated spending time with the man in his youth, but Fumio was a good person and a good father and he would miss him terribly.

:cheery for those thoughts:

:This isn't going to last much longer: He observed, toying a bit with his chopsticks. :I want to enjoy it while I can:

* * *

It was Saturday, which meant classes let out early and Sho had just managed to slip out before Tetsuro could catch him. It wasn't exactly that he was avoiding his friend, he knew the older boy was worried about him... especially after he'd run off so quickly after the visit with Makishima the day before, but there were other things he needed to work out that day and none of them involved dodging the boy's sometimes overly insightful questions. 

Sho was halfway up one of the Narisawa hiking paths before he let himself breathe a bit. It was weird, being in the area again. His memories of it were not especially pleasant ones, but it was as good a space as any for some experimentation and he knew of more than one area a few miles into the forest that would not be monitored just then.

:Can you sense anything: He wondered. It wouldn't have occurred to him before to see if the unit could sense things in his dimensional space from its own sub-dimension, but considering it had been able to detect things about the other guyvers without being attached to him it seemed worth a shot at least.

:always aware: it responded to his unasked question first.  
:nothing sentient nearby:

Which was comforting enough that he let himself slow up a bit. The first part of its response was interesting though, and he had to wonder how the guyver was scanning the area without actually being in it.

:thin veil between:  
:like looking through translucent fabric:  
:would be harder if moving faster:  
:takes a moment to process:

Sho frowned a little at that thought. The description was one that was familiar to him.

:like when the Gigantic would teleport you mean? When it would pass through the intermediate space the things around it looked like they were projected on rippled glass... and they were hard to make out except just as it phased in and out:

:same: it agreed  
:native dimension:

Which made a great deal of sense actually. He'd always wondered how the Gigantic could teleport, but if it was merely moving through the space that the guyver unit existed in naturally while at rest it wasn't quite the feat it would have been otherwise.

:Would it be possible to teleport without the Gigantic pod then:

:unable to generate folds in space: there was a brief pause and Sho sensed it was considering the idea.

:possibly over smaller distances:

"We should try at least. It would be a convenient ability to have stashed away." He murmured, feeling a little less inwardly focused when he spoke aloud. "How long do you think we can be at this before the drain gets to be too much?" Sho remembered very clearly how when he'd first bonded with the unit it had taken virtually no time in armor to tire. Over the years he'd built up a resistance to it, or else it had learned how to make more efficient use of his energy, but there was no reason to think he wasn't starting back at square one.

:long as needed:  
:know you - know energy:  
:longer maybe than before:

Sho paused, considering that idea. At his very best, he'd been able to sustain the armor for a few days continuously. Less if he was fighting all out, but it had been respectable enough.

"So we could go a few days maybe?" He wondered, kicking at a loose stone as he deviated from the main path.

:longer: it sounded fairly confident of that.

"Well, for today there's no need, but that's something else thats good to know." He mused, spotting the clearing ahead he wanted to make use of. "Are we still alone?"

:yes:

"Good." He replied, closing his eyes as he welcomed the armor that eagerly wrapped around him. He'd been prepared to shout for it, but he could sense its eagerness and it had responded to his desire for it before he'd been able to voice the words.

Lifting his hands into view the revived guyver decompressed its breather vents. The armoured hands before him were the same as they had always been and he found the sight strangely comforting. Flexing his fists thoughtfully he considered the blue-ish armor. A lifetime ago he had hated the sight of those hands, and while he couldn't say he liked what they had once done, they seemed cleaner now, free from the blood he knew they would someday shed.

"A fresh start for us, hmm?" His voice sounded strange to his ears and it took him a moment to realize why. The voice of the guyver spoke with the voice of a wiser man than the child that was or had been Sho Fukamachi. It was the voice of one that had been through wars and lived many lifetimes. It was the voice of a warrior, not that of a boy.

It cemented his determination to hear himself then. A warrior could do what the boy could not, could change what the boy could not.

The wind picked up for a moment, swirling fall leaves around him and he sensed a rainstorm from somewhere not so very far away building. Somewhere above him a raptor circled calling out to a mate as it searched for prey from high above. Overlooking the countryside and seeing for miles it seemed, the guyver realized what the almost forgotten sense was that pushed against his heart.

Hope.

* * *

Oswald Risker was not a patient man by nature. He'd learned to contain his impulses over the years, but they'd never really gone away. When he wanted something he wanted it in the then and now, not in 3 days, or 4 months or 2 years, but right that moment. Some would have said it stemmed from being spoiled as a child, but in truth Risker had never been coddled a day in his life. His father had been deeply entrenched in his work with a private military organization known as Chronos and he had passed on a form of discipline that bordered on abuse to his progeny. 

In his rare philosophical moments Oswald suspected his impatience stemmed from a sense of self-preservation. One had the best chance of getting what they'd been promised as they'd been promised if it was delivered quickly. By the same token, punishments were always best taken and then over with. It was far worse to anticipate a reprimand than to receive one.

When he'd been 23 he'd been accepted for 'special training' within his father's company. It would be several years more before he truly understood what he was being groomed for however. Chronos had many secrets and he was one of a privileged few to be privy to a relatively large number of them. From zoaniod conversion to world domination, Chronos was not a company to be trifled with. They had big plans, and Oswald wanted nothing more than to be a feature player in those plans.

He'd been chosen, he was told as he was slowly integrated into the company, to become a hyper-zoaniod. Only a select few were offered such an honor, hypers were special one-off creations, more powerful by half than even their most advanced standard counterparts. There were less than a thousand of them worldwide in an army that contained millions. Often they served as bodyguards and assassins to the elite of elite amongst the corporation.

A great honor indeed, and one he'd been forced to wait a very long time for. At nearly 36, Oswald remained in a peak condition of those ten years his junior, pushing himself hard in an effort to maintain his candidacy while his battle form was slowly developed. It had tried his thin grasp on patience on many occasions.

Now, however, things were finally falling in his favor and he could say that it had been a lesson in patience well learned. Not even the hyper-zoaniods whose ranks he'd so looked forward to joining could stand up to him. He was something else entirely, something greater. Something vastly more important.

He had been sent to Japan to finally be processed when he had been waylayed at the Japan branch by their loss of the guyver units. He had understood more about the weapons than even the highest ranking official in the branch, but even then he had not truly appreciated the guyver unit for what it was. Not until he'd unintentionally activated the sole retrieved unit had he begun to grasp the magnitude of it.

The guyver was far more than a mere weapon. He could not begin to imagine anything being capable of standing up to the power he now possessed. Even the mythical strength of a zoalord seemed pale by comparison. With such a power he could imagine being capable of almost anything. Certainly it would raise him higher and higher within the ranks of Chronos.

There was only one small detail that could hold him back now. One small detail he fully intended to take care of with the utmost efficiency. The revival of the remaining two units. As long as he held the only unit Chronos had access to he was priceless to them. If that changed, it would be most inconvenient.

It was for that reason he found himself standing outside of the Makishima mansion late at night only a few days after sending the prized brat to the hospital. He'd sensed something from the boy when he'd been caught up in the attack, something important. Something dangerous.

Something the child's own idiot father would no doubt be ecstatic to discover. Something Oswald himself could not allow to ever come to light.

Oswald grinned and flicked his dwindling cigarette away as he approached the small mansion. Agito Makishima possessed a guyver unit. It was too bad for the boy that very soon it wouldn't do him an whit of good.

* * *

Sho jerked awake at midnight with a sense of urgency that chased him out of his dreams. Something somewhere was going on that was very, very wrong. 

:fight: The voice was clear and hurried in his mind, and it only took a moment for Sho to process that it was his unit that had roused him.

:nearby the others fight nearby: It urged as Sho struggled to unbolt his window and clamor out in a massive hurry. He jumped off the roof without really thinking about it, wincing a little at his less than graceful landing. He supposed shoes might have been helpful but in a few moments he was out of sight of his house and practically invisible between street lamps and it didn't matter.

:now, quietly if you can: he urged feeling the familiar armor reach out to enclose him almost as he thought the words. There was a dull popping sound, but the usual explosive barrier was thankfully absent. Safely armed he sped up in the direction he sensed the other guyvers to be.

He could detect a note of panic and no small amount of pain from Makishima and something dark and unpleasant he'd rather not identify from Risker.

Unsettled, he ran faster.

* * *

Agito awoke feeling decidedly groggy. Something tingled at the edges of his awareness, just enough that he knew he wasn't going to get back to sleep until he'd investigated. Annoyed but also trained to be paranoid, he pulled himself up, securing his arm in its sling before cautiously exiting his room. The mansion was not very comforting so late at night even without the vague sense of alarm he'd felt upon waking and Agito fought down the childish twinge of fear that his subconscious maintained over its lingering shadows. 

This house had never been home to him, but he would never let it frighten him either. He knew it too well, had hated it for too long to allow such a thing.

Somewhere up ahead a door creaked and all of Agito's mental warning lights seemed to go off all at once.

"How lovely, you've come to welcome me in." The voice wasn't hard to identify even though he could only make out a vaguely humanoid shape amongst the shadows. "Well, that makes this easier doesn't it? Saves me having to find you." Risker stepped into the dull glow that filtered in through one of the windows and Agito felt a small shudder as he stared up at the suddenly very vicious looking inspector.

He'd hated Risker, respected his position to a degree, and scoffed at his relative lack of intellect, but up until that moment he had not once thought to fear him.

"Shall we play then, little boy?" Risker grinned at him evilly. An explosion rocked the mansion and Agito found himself abruptly faced with a truly terrifying sight.

* * *

"Come out, come out wherever you are!" Risker's voice echoed gleefully across the underpass where he'd lazily followed the dark guyver. Makishima had put up a passable fight at his home before running away when it became apparent he did not hold the upper hand. Now the foolish brat seemed to think he could hide from him. Movement at the edge of his vision alerted him just as the dark guyver attached. He caught the kick aimed for his head and threw the smaller form forcefully away from himself. 

Makishima landed with a loud crack, rattling the concrete structure with the force of the impact. Risker laughed heartily at the sound, amused by the attempt.

"Now, now... that wasn't very nice of you. Running off and then attacking blind like that, where's the sportsmanship?" He goaded, approaching the slightly battered form of his opponent with a slow calm.

"Fuck you." Came the angry response as the dark guyver rose to a crouch, preparing for another assault. Risker grinned under his armor, happy enough to humor the kid for awhile longer before killing him.

Makishima launched forward, the swords on his right arm extending. Risker extended his own blades, allowing the feign to the right before engaging the boy's attach at this left side. The sound the two weapons made when they contacted was like nails on a chalkboard but amplified a thousand times over. The two combatants drew back and Makishima retracted his swords as useless.

Risker could sense his young opponent scanning the area for ideas, but there was nothing there that could do enough damage to a guyver to be of any real use. He could almost feel the moment the brat realized it, that moment where the acceptance of his loss sunk in.

"Having fun, Risker?" The low voice just behind him caused the gold guyver to start and Risker whipped around to face the newcomer, cursing that he hadn't sensed anyone coming.

"You!" He failed to keep the shock out of his voice as he took in the sight before him. The third unit had been found and activated, that much was very clear. Before him stood a lithe guyver unit, its coloring a very pale blue. It took him a moment to realize its form was smaller than him, smaller too than Makishima, the almost arrogant way it stood was deceiving. Clearly it believed it had some kind of upper hand.

"Ah yes, me." It agreed, and suddenly it wasn't in front of him anymore and his spine arched painfully under the force of a vicious kick to his lower back. Risker stumbled forward, trying to spin again to face his new opponent but his attacker had already moved again.

This third guyver had moved so fast! Too fast... he's barely seen him shift and then he'd been behind him. It shouldn't have been possible to move quickly enough for him not to detect it.

"I wasn't planning to deal with you just yet." The low voice was directly behind him again and Risker choked on his retort when he found a humming blade pressed against his neck. "Would you like to find out what happens to a guyver when its head is separated from its body?" It pressed, and Risker could feel the humming blade sink into the surface of his armor.

"No..." He gasped out, fighting down a mixture of disbelief and panic. The voice laughed from behind him and just as quickly as it had happened the sword was gone and Risker was flying forward to impact a concrete pillar face-first.

"No, no, no! That won't do will it?" It wondered cheerfully. Risker dragged himself up from the onslaught into a ready crouch. Nearby Makishima was trying to edge away from the fight, clearly unsure if it would be wiser to help this new guyver destroy him or get the hell away from both of them. At least that suggested the two didn't know one another.

"Whatever you want, I can help you." He offered, taking in the strength of his opponent quickly and instinctively deferring. He could be willing to work with this one until a time he found out how to defeat them.

"Whatever I want?" The voice prompted and Risker felt his insides go cold at the tone. It was not an encouraging sound in the least and he sensed he'd made some kind of error though it was hard to pinpoint what it might have been.

"There are so many things I want, Risker. But you see, there is only one of them you can help me with." The blue guyver approached him slowly, and Risker only barely restrained himself from drawing back. There was something about this guyver that was just wrong. All his senses screamed with that fact. Massively, dangerously, _wrong_.

The blue guyver's hands dropped to his face and pulled his chin up so that Risker was staring into the glowing red eyes of the other unit. Though it wasn't possible to see expression through the guyver's face armor, he was possessed for a moment with the impression of a very disturbing smile.

Determined not to let it end like that, Risker activated a sword and arched it up towards the other's midsection. Just as quickly the blue guyver's hand moved downward accompanied by a deafening hum.

Risker screamed as his forearm was blown away by the unfamiliar attack. Then the pale guyver's hand thrust forward and wrapped around the medallion on his forehead and pulled. For a few excruciating moments it was the worst pain Risker had ever known, and then his mind shut down and he knew nothing at all.

* * *

**Next time:** The remaining guyvers have a friendly chat, Genzo Makishima plots, Guyot arrives to mess up everything and someone important dies. Maybe. 


	6. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes: **Apologies on the long break between updates. My writing time ran away without me. I promise I'm still working on this, just not as quickly as I started out.

Its a longish chapter so hopefully that makes up some for the waiting.

**Rating: **PG-13 for swearing and violence.

**Summary: **Sho considers the possibility that the solution to protecting his friends and family may be death. Guyot arrives to complicate matters.

**Chapter 5 – On the Topic of Death and Dying

* * *

**

Agito Makishima was used to being in control of things. He had spent his whole life learning to manipulate others and it was a skill he was rather proud of. There was very little that he disliked more than feeling out of control.

Which was exactly why this night was ranking very low on his enjoyment scale. First Risker had the gall to attack him in his own home, and now the final guyver had decided to reveal himself.

Agito watched as the small armored form easily beat down the man that had moments before been throwing him about with the same casual air. It was an unsettling idea to think that of the three units he might well be the least powerful, but for the time being at least that seemed to be the case.

The third guyver approached Risker with the collected pace of a predator that knew it had already defeated it's prey. Agito watched silently as the smaller unit raised the gaze of the larger. He barely saw the attacks coming, but the results were very clear. Risker screamed in pain and Agito swallowed at the sight of the destroyed limb. The attack was one he hadn't discovered yet, but at least he was fairly sure it had made use of the guyver's gravity controller... something to be tested if he made it out of there alive.

The blue guyver reached forward and his hand closed like a talon over Risker's control medal. With agonizing slowness the smaller unit drew the orb out of the other unit's head. Risker's screams trailed off into an agonized gurgle as the third guyver stepped away from him, the small metal orb clutched in one hand.

For a long moment it surveyed the medallion thoughtfully. Then its own medal flashed several times, settling into a swift series of pulses that the medal that had previously been attached to Risker echoed. After a moment the glow of both orbs faded and the new guyver returned its attention to the now heavily damaged form of the gold-colored unit.

Agito could see easily that something was very wrong with the thing that had been Risker, its flesh was bulging slightly in places and the armor seemed to be taking on a gooey gelatinous texture.

"Its a parasite." Agito jerked slight in surprise as he suddenly found the blue guyver a few paces away from him. The voice it projected was low and dangerous and inconveniently failed to resound with the familiarity of anyone he might have known.

"The guyver unit, I mean." The voice continued, and the blue guyver gestured vaguely to the disturbing tableau before them. Risker's body seemed to be imploding now, his flesh collapsing in on itself. It was a gruesome vision. "The control medallion is all that keeps it from devouring you."

"Will you kill me now as well?" Agito prompted, gathering himself in case he needed to run. The other's response was far from what he expected, however, and the blue guyver let out a barking laugh as it turned its reddish gaze on him.

"Kill you, Makishima? No, I think not, perhaps later if you feel the need to be excessively annoying for some reason." It sounded amused, and Agito felt his stomach drop again at the realization it knew who he was.

"How do you know me?" He half-demanded, alternating his attention between the new guyver and the thing that had been risker. The later was little more than a bubbling mass of viscous fluid now.

"The tumors on your back... you must know they serve as a communicator in a way. They're what allow you to call the guyver unit, but more than that, they allow you to communicate with others that have active units. Risker no doubt was able to sense you that way." The blue guyver waved vaguely towards his shoulders in explanation but Agito did not miss the neat evasion as to how this other guyver had known him.

"Will this evening's activities have any effect on your anominity within Chronos?" The blue guyver questioned and Agito hesitated for a moment, his mind flying across possibly scenarios. On the one hand answering this guyver's questions could reveal much more about him that he would have wanted. On the other, it was abundantly clear that the man in the blue armor already knew enough to damn him several times over if he was so inclined.

"I don't think so. Risker seemed to be acting on his own initiative so its unlikely he would have informed anyone about his intent." Agito mused, wondering if there were any security cameras that might have caught their fight at the mansion. It was possible, and something he'd have to check on when he returned. For the time being it would be best to play dumb and hope he could find a way to place the blame on the inspector's recklessness.

"You'll have to watch the arm, the guyver will have healed it completely by now." The blue guyver informed him blandly. "If you can manage it, try to keep your head down for awhile. You don't have any concept exactly what you're up against with Chronos. The Japan branch barely scratches the surface, and no matter how much you think you're privy to..." The blue guyver paused and one of his head sensors swiveled backwards.

"Its time to go." The other informed. Agito agreed inwardly with the assessment as his own armor informed him a moment later of approaching sirens.

"Who are you?" He demanded before the other could disappear.

"No one to concern yourself with." The smaller guyver rose slowly into the air, pausing to hover a few feet above the pavement. "If Reichman Guyot shows, he may be able to tell what you are. I assume you've got a contingency plan, if you think he's on to you don't risk it, as you are now he could kill you with very little effort." He warned, the unwavering gaze of the guyver unit drilling into Agito's mind.

"How...!" Agito began again, but the blue form was already gone, shooting away into the night with that same impossible speed he'd demonstrated against Risker and for a moment the dark guyver could only stare after him in mild shock. Then his own unit kindly reminded him of the approaching danger and he moved swiftly to follow the other's example.

* * *

Sho slunk back into his room in the early hours of the morning, Risker's silent control medallion still clutched in one hand. He hadn't been sure what to do with it, but his unit had seemed to succeed in switching it off... as much as such a thing was possible anyway. At least, it had been several hours and it hadn't yet attempted any regrowth. The tendrils of metal that would normally be in contact with the host's brain had coiled neatly in on themselves in what he could only describe as a neutral formation.

:will not revive without our instruction: the unit assured him.

It felt confident of that, and he was inclined to trust its diagnosis. It would not be the first time one guyver unit had managed to influence another. Still, Sho suspected that if he hadn't been in as close communication with his own it would have been nearly impossible to convince the other medallion to willingly go dormant without a remover. As it was Risker was still imprinted in its programing so activating it up without said remover handy was probably a bad idea.

It would have been easy enough to destroy it entirely, but he was reluctant to do so. It could make a good bargaining chip one day, and even if it didn't it was a rare enough creation in the universe that he would have felt guilty destroying it casually.

The Chronos inspector wouldn't be a threat again any time soon. That was really all that mattered just then.

Makishima had been in more trouble when he'd arrived than Sho would have expected. To be sure the guyvers got stronger the longer they were bonded to the host, and some of the boy's lack of ability could be attributed to inexperience but Sho had been surprised by just how thoroughly Risker had been trouncing the dark guyver. It had not occurred to him until just then exactly how much Makishima must have relied on watching his own unit do battle in order to learn all of the guyver's abilities.

"He may be in a bit of trouble soon." Sho mused to himself, hunting around in his desk drawers for something to store the silent control medal in. Eventually he located a small jewelry case that had belonged to his mother. He'd been using it to keep some spare cash in the past few years. It wasn't perfect, but for the time being at least it would do.

:will keep a close watch: the unit offered.

"Thanks, I'd prefer not to interfere if its not necessary but if he gets into a jam again like tonight its better he stay alive for now. The less Chronos knows about the guyver the better, and knowing it can regenerate a host from nothing is something we could definitely go without them being aware of." He shut the medallion away in the small box and stuffed it into the bottom of his drawer.

"We'll need to leave soon." He mused, falling tiredly back onto his sheets. "The longer Sho Fukamachi is around the more chances there are for someone to realize who the blue guyver is." He rolled his head toward the window. Through the curtains he sensed a trickle of dawn light, the sun would be just beginning to show itself on the horizon. At least it was Sunday and he could sleep in for a bit. It had been a rather late night.

:plan to fake death: the unit prompted, and he was possessed of the odd sensation that it was settling in for the night as well. Though it didn't exactly bother him anymore he figured it would take awhile yet to fully adjust to its unusual presence.

"It seems wise. If I run away it will look suspicious and people will be looking for me. No one looks for the dead, it will make it easier to disappear." He agreed thoughtfully. He had a rough idea of what needed to happen beyond that, but experience had taught him that the best laid plans tended to be the ones that wound up the most screwed up so he was keeping flexible about it. An opportunity to play dead would come up, he'd worry about the rest once that was taken care of.

:should sleep now: the unit pressed, and Sho yawned over a small smile at the oddly paternal note to its suggestion.

:busy night:

"Yeah." He agreed readily, untangling his sheets to shuffle back into bed more comfortably. The future and all its concerns would still be there waiting for him in the morning.

* * *

Genzo Makishima did not consider himself to be an unintelligent man. He'd been the head of Chronos Japan for more than a decade, and had worked as a researcher and technical consultant before that. He was a careful planner and a talented manipulator that did not think much about stepping on those around him when it could prove to be advantageous to his own person.

He'd never married, and considered women to be a burden he did not want or need for anything more than the most base of requirements. He had not concerned himself with offspring much either, though when his younger brother had begun breeding it had occurred to him that an heir might be useful.

When his nephew was nine he'd noticed the brat for the first time. The boy was bright, more than that, he had the potential to be a genius. All the signs of a brilliant mind were there, glaring to Genzo though his own brother seemed oblivious to them. He had felt it was only right that the child be pushed to become his best, and if it had taken liberating him from his birth parents to do so... well, it was no real tragedy.

It had been a terribly easy thing to orchestrate, and he had raised Agito as his own son from that time forth. He cared for the youth in a sort of abstract way. It would have gone too far to say he loved him, but he would have been upset if the child had died, and was concerned for his well being when he was ill or injured. It was more attachment than he offered most people and perhaps because he had never required more than that from a parental figure he had assumed it was enough.

Recently something had changed in his neatly ordered world though. Agito was lying to him, keeping important things from him. He did not like it. He had taught the boy the lie after all, and his son was a fool if he did not think his father capable of seeing through a facade the man had effectively built himself.

Soon it seemed he would have to cut the child off. Reichman Guyot, one of the heads of Chronos' global organization was coming. He'd received word that morning and the man would be arriving early the next day. It was abundantly clear now that the incident with the guyver units had begun inside the corporation, and Genzo had a sneaking suspicion he knew where as well.

The attack at his mansion the night before had been a disaster. Though Agito feigned ignorance, the elder Makishima had watched the security tapes while the youth had been checked for the head injury he'd claimed had knocked him out. He'd withheld one in particular when his son had asked to review them. Though the camera angle was poor and the video quality grainy it clearly showed two figures battling.

One was most definitely Risker, which surprised him very little. The inspector had not returned that morning, and a cleaning crew had discovered a reasonable amount of blood near the underpass where the guyver had presumably continued its battle after leaving the mansion. The man was either dead or off somewhere licking his wounds.

The other figure was harder to make out, his armor so dark as to be almost black. It was most definitely another guyver though.

It was not the armor that gave Agito away, however, but the way the guyver fought. Genzo had made sure his son was trained in many different forms of combat over the years, and Agito had developed a certain identifiable style to his fighting over time that was all but unmistakable. He might have missed it if the dark guyver were fighting a lesser opponent, but Risker was well trained, one of Chronos' elites in training in fact, and the boy had undoubtedly had to push himself hard to keep up.

Genzo was not pleased with this turn of events, but he could not have said he was surprised either. The boy had always been a gamble, now it seemed the gamble had failed. Agito was a bleeding wound to him. And it was always best to cauterize such an injury as soon as possible. With any luck he'd be able to swing the situation more favorably once Guyot arrived.

* * *

The Whirring of helicopter blades broke through the lingering morning calm. The smooth aerial swords cut through the soft fog, dissipating the haze to bring the large black bird into view above the Chronos Japan main offices. On the ground below a few curious passerbys glanced up, wondering perhaps who or what warranted the use of such frivolous machinery.

On the rooftop a small army stood ready to meet the transport. To one side stood the stoic form of the head of Chronos Japan, Genzo Makishima, beside and just behind him a tall youth wearing a school uniform stood appearing, superficially at least, to be equally calm. If the sling that cradled one arm somewhat spoiled his otherwise imposing aura no one commented on it.

The helicopter landed with a dull thud, and before the blades had more than slowed its doors were open and a small group of men, bodyguards perhaps, had exited. As the air settled in the wake of the machine, a tall man ducked gracefully out of its hull. His full height towered by at least a head over all those gathered.

The man's unnatural reddish gaze swept across the gathered troops to rest momentarily on Chairman Makishima, before shifting to the youth beside him. The boy very nearly succeeded in hiding his discomfort and the tall man smiled, a rather unpleasant upturning of his lips, at his failure.

Striding forward with all the arrogance of a modern-day god, the man moved forward into the roof entrance of the building, his men following close behind. Behind them on the roof, the gathered troops quickly scattered in an effort to disperse the remaining tension.

Standing beside his step-father, Agito Makishima, son of Chronos and the man that would be Zeus felt a shiver of premonition settle over him.

Reichman Guyot had arrived.

* * *

Genzo Makishima forced himself to stay calm as he entered his office. The room should have been a place of relative sanctuary, but with Commander Guyot's arrival that had very definitely changed. The man had commandeered the office and Genzo was not nearly a big enough fool to protest the use of his personal work space.

There were, after all, far worse things of Genzo's that the man could and might still demand.

"Ah, Makishima. How very kind of you to grace us with your presence." The commander's voice was dark and menacing, and Genzo couldn't quite halt the chill it sent down his spine.

"My apologies, Commander. I will do everything in my power to grant you whatever you need while you wish to stay at this facility." He bowed deeply, hoping the man would give him long enough to sway him with information. Guyot was not known for being predictable however, and it was hard to tell when one had caught him in a foul mood. It was a dangerous game Genzo played, but one he still felt he could profit from.

"Of course." Guyot's voice might have been condescending but it was hard to tell through the normal level of disdain it carried. "Perhaps you would like to begin by explaining the situation to me."

"Yes of course. I'm afraid most of what's happened so far was under the orders of Inspector Risker. He arrived the day after we retrieved the first unit." Genzo began.

"Ah yes, the dear Inspector. He's curiously missing today." Guyot leaned back in the Chairman's prized chair, folding his arms across his broad frame in a way that was misleadingly casual. His eyes spoke the truth of the matter, and Genzo knew if he set one foot wrong it would be the last time he would do so.

"Yes, we can't be sure if he's alive or not, but he went AWOL a few days ago and attacked my home." Guyot's face was impassive. He was not known for being a terribly sympathetic man.

"How unfortunate for you." The commander drawled.

"Not so much so." Genzo's smile was pure venom as he dove eagerly into his revelations. "You see, the security cameras at my home have caught something I think you'll find quite curious."

The commander arched his brow at that, curiosity just barely leaking across his features and in that instant, Genzo Makishima knew would win his gamble.

* * *

Sho knew something was wrong when the boy next to him stood up in the middle of class and began packing away his things. Within the course of about two minutes all the other students and the instructor were following suit. Sho frowned and stood with them, trying to figure out what he was missing.

:commanding music: his companion informed him.

It took some concentration, but if he listened hard Sho found he could indeed hear a strange throbbing whir coming from the loudspeakers. Frowning inwardly he closed his pack and moved to follow the neat procession of students leaving the building.

:you're blocking the commands: he wondered to the unit.

It sent a vague sense of agreement and he could tell it was already scanning around them without his prompting.

The hypnotic suggestion had to be Chronos, but there was no way for them to know he had a guyver unit and without that information there should have been no reason to attack the school. Unless... Makishima's cover had been blown.

Prodding the units attention he reached out and mentally scanned for the dark guyver. Makishima was definitely in the building, but telepathy was an inexact science and he couldn't tell where exactly.

Discretely breaking off from the group he ducked into a supply closet to wait and see what happened.

* * *

Agito blinked a few times in confusion as suddenly the entire student body seemed to be pouring out into the halls. For a moment he wondered if there was some kind of fire drill, but a more considering look at his classmates quickly halted that idea. Their eyes were glazed and unfocused as they walked, an unsettlingly vacant expression echoed from one face to another.

And then he heard it, like a vaguely itchy sense in his mind. He'd spent a lot of time learning to detect and overcome the type of auditory hypnosis that was affecting the school now. It was training his step-father had insisted upon over the years. He had believed it to be an advantage, but now it was being used against him.

His stomach dropped as he watched the last student trickle down the stairwell. The school was being evacuated by Chronos, and there was only one reason they'd implement such an action without informing him of it.

He considered for a brief moment trying to sneak out after the student body, but he knew Chronos well enough to know they'd have a contingency for that. It would be problematic if they attacked him among his classmates as well, people only served as moving obstacles and even if that weren't the case he wasn't quite ruthless enough to throw away lives without standing to gain something from their loss.

That left two options, stand and fight, or try to find a route they hadn't already blocked off to sneak out of.

"Hehehe..." The sound of laughter sent a shiver down his spine, and Agito spun around to find three men in nondescript business suits blocking the stairwell.

That killed his second option. Drawing himself up to his full height, Agito unleashed his most threatening glare, not completely giving up on intimidating his way out of the situation yet.

"Who are you? Why did no one notify me of these plans?" He demanded. The man in the center grinned at him darkly and Agito sensed his bluff wasn't going to work.

"I am Zerebubus, and I am sure you are a bright enough lad to guess why I am here and why you were not informed of today's plans." Agito froze at the introduction. He didn't recognize the man's type off-hand but he had a sinking feeling at the introduction all the same.

"You should be honored Brat," The man to Zerebubus' left spoke up. Agito would bet he was a mid-level laser-type based on his build. "You rate a hyper-zoaniod."

Agito's gaze swung back to Zerebubus in alarm. He was not prepared to confront a hyper yet. Footsteps behind him echoed through the empty hall and he spared a quick glance backwards. There was most of a full unit flanking him, effectively cutting off his only remaining exit out the emergency stairwell.

"If you come quietly," Zerebubus began, "We'll make sure you die quickly."

Swearing inwardly, Agito wondered if anyone actually ever agreed to a demand like that.

"BIO-BOOST!"

Left in the dark guyver's explosive wake, Zerebubus grinned feraly at the hole Agito had created in the floor, smiling down through the destroyed cement and steel with unsettling glee. It wasn't often after all that a hyper-zoaniod came upon an opponent worthy enough to justify its talents. He was going to enjoy playing with this 'guyver'.

* * *

The school felt eerily silent to Agito as he crouched in the shadows of an emptied classroom. He knew it was an illusion but he felt protected by the darkened corners of the room as he waited, listening for the sounds of the creatures he knew were tearing apart the building in search of him.

He regretted that he hadn't found the time to get away to test his armor sooner. The brief moments he'd had using it had shown him a small but formidable array of weaponry but nothing he would trust to get him through a face off with one of Chronos' elite soldiers. He didn't doubt there was a way to fight one, only that he had no idea what that way was just then and he had never been one for entering a battle unprepared if he could at all help it.

Something echoed above him and to his left and he caught himself holding his breath as he felt the armor's sensors shifting about in an attempt to pinpoint the source. Annoyed at his own reaction he forced himself out of his crouch and darted towards the windows of the room. He was on the far side of the school building, with the courtyard to his right and the athletic fields to his left.

Steeling himself for a confrontation he punched through the fragile pane of glass and jumped the two stories down to the walkway that encircled the building. His sensors scanned frantically but nothing seemed to have noticed him yet. Deciding to duck towards the fields and hopefully past them out into the hills the school backed up to he turned left and took off at a swift run.

Luck was apparently not with him as he ran out onto the field and straight into the waiting arms of a small army. He felt his stomach sink as nearly two dozen soldiers turned to face him. Apparently Guyot felt he warranted a full assault.

"Going somewhere?" His unit alerted him just as Zerebubus crashed down from the roof of the nearest building. He dodged away as the ground formed a small crater where he'd just been standing.

"I'd thought about it." He agreed, trying not to back into the transforming hoard that was now behind him. A nearby Ramotiths slashed at him and he jerked away. All his directions seemed to be cut off now. :Guyver III: He called, not really sure if the other unit was even anywhere close enough to help... or for that matter if it would feel like doing so.

Twin laser blasts shocked him out of his concentration and he turned to find a wall of laser types charging. He dodged a series of incoming blasts in rapid succession. Zerebubus stepped up to catch him as he jumped away from the last one and the creature's vicious swipe to his spine sent him crashing violently to the ground. He groaned inwardly at the pain, but somehow managed to roll out of the way before the hyper could stomp his face any further into the concrete.

"I had hoped for better." Zerebubus grinned at him, mandibles clacking together in what might have been a laugh.

"Sorry," He apologized, extending a sonic blade as he rushed the zoaniod. It was a glancing blow and did minimal damage, scratching the surface but not penetrating the hyper's carapace. Agito tried to recollect himself as he landed.

The other zoaniods were lower ranking and seemed to be disinclined to directly get between the guyver and the hyper zoaniod. The laser types could be dodged and the strength types could be avoided... or at least they could if he didn't try to leave, as was very kindly thrust home by a Gregole's horn impaling its way through his chest as he tried to get enough room to out jump the ring of zoaniods fencing him in.

He wrenched the gregole's head violently, tearing it from the neck as he landed. He could taste his own blood bubble up through his lungs and mouth as he landed, detaching the severed head and tossing it weakly away.

Zerebubus was clacking his mandibles again in that disturbing way as he landed behind the injured guyver to deliver a powerful kick that sent him careening across the field to land at just below the line of laser-types. One of which redirected a charging blast directly down at him. He dodged to one side, but could feel the heat of it burning across his shoulder.

He was struggling to get up again when his sensors alerted him to movement across the field. The dark guyver froze in surprise, his gaze locked on the student that had stumbled out onto the battlefield that had once been the school's courtyard. For a moment all he could think was what dumb luck the kid had to have been able to avoid the hypnosis or whatever else Chronos might have used to empty the school. Then he recognized him.

"Fukamachi!" He called, hoping the idiot would snap out of the obvious shock he was in at seeing the zoaniods. Nearby he heard the unnatural gurgling laugh of one of the vamores.

"Fukamachi, eh? Friend of yours?" It wondered, and Agito supposed it didn't matter if it thought he knew the boy or not because the youth was about to die and there was very little he could do about it. He didn't have a chance to respond as Zerebubus landed in front of him again and he was back to dodging its attacks. There was a way to defeat it, there had to be... he just needed to figure out what it was.

:Guyver III: He called again, not really surprised when there was still no response. The blue guyver had not contacted him again since the night he'd killed Risker. That attack... Agito's eyes narrowed as he jumped back away from the hyper-zoaniod bringing his hands forward and trying to recall what the blue guyver had done. His unit seemed to know what he wanted though, and he felt the air vibrate around him for a moment before the pressure released in a cannonball of what he could only call extreme gravity.

The gravity cannon impacted Zerebubus with devastating efficiency, cracking the hyper-zoaniods carapace. Though it wasn't debilitating, it was the first real damage he'd done. Panting a little with the effort, he took a second to survey the situation again. The remaining backup troops were closing in at the sight of the hyper's injury. He looked over at where Fukamachi had stood in time to see him eclipsed in the blast from Vamore's energy beam.

Some small part of him took a second to mourn a wasted life, but it was brief, and there were more pressing concerns to deal with. He turned his attention back to the recovering Zerebubus. The hyper-zoaniod did not look happy.

* * *

Sho flattened himself against the building as he tried to take in what was happening. A small army of Zoaniods had surrounded the east playing field and a Zerebubus-type was quite gleefully pounding Makishima into the ground. The dark guyver would need help and quickly.

:come out: the unit wondered, and he sensed it hovering close behind him, ready to activate at his first compliant thought.

:no, wait... we may be able to kill two birds with one stone here...: He dared another quick glance onto the field.

With their attention occupied the zoaniods hadn't seen him yet. That was important because there was undoubtedly a zoalord watching through their eyes and he didn't want what he was about to do to look planned in any way.

:bad idea: the unit argued, sensing his thoughts and most definitely not approving. Sho smothered an irritated smirk, the guyver unit was endearing with its protectiveness, but it was also somewhat annoying.

:it'll work. We'll just stumble out there, look confused and I'll call you out and duck away when they attack. It'll look like Sho Fukamachi was killed and then we can work on getting Makishima out of this mess.: The unit positively oozed displeasure at him, but he sensed it would not oppose the plan either.

Satisfied, he took a deep breath and stumbled forward, blinking rapidly and making a concerted effort to look confused and shocked. A few yards away from the building he stopped, froze and found himself staring down a Vamore that had caught sight of him.

:Guyver III.: Sho blinked at Makishima's mental call but didn't respond. The other guyver would just have to hold his own for a few moments.

Across the field the Vamore that had spotted him was laughing at something. Its laser pods glowed as they snapped open and Sho stumbled back a few paces, widening his eyes as he tried to look afraid. It wasn't hard, this wasn't one of his most painless ideas. If he miscalculated by even a second...

:now: the unit pressed as the laser beams exploded from the vamore's shoulders to stream for him.

:wait: he returned, watching the energy storm towards him as if in slow motion.

:NOW: it demanded in return.

:Just a little more...: He could feel the heat rushing towards him:just...: the light of it was blinding but for some reason his eyes refused to close against it :a little bit...: He felt himself scream in pain as the laser's heat bore down on him a millisecond before its full brunt. He could feel his skin boiled momentarily under the onslaught. :...more:

Silence echoed behind the destruction of the blast.

* * *

**Author's End Note:** I am the evilness.

**Next Time: **Death, Destruction, Mayhem, Chaos, Anarchy... Or else lots of people talking about each other (same difference really).


	7. Interlude 1

**Interlude 1 – Sleeping Giants

* * *

**

Archangel.

In western religion it was a name given to the highest rank of Angels. It was a title mutated from a name that was so deeply lost in the past as to be nearly forgotten, a name whispered so often it had long since lost its identity as such to be woven into the fledgling folklores of humanity.

He had been the greatest among legions of terrible angels, a commander of armies, a destroyer of worlds. Power had bleed from his flesh in waves that scorched any that dared touch him. He had been the favored child of gods. A masterpiece among a master's works.

Then apocalypse had come and gone and all that remained of his creator's work was chaos and fear. For a time he had remained revered and followed, but it was the nature of his lesser siblings to stray. They fell into long ages of darkness and lies, and abandoned and exhausted he had retreated from the world he had once thought he held a place in.

For a long time the Archangel had slept. When he was woken again he found the world changed. His lesser siblings had grown into something else with minds that worked strangely and beliefs that passed over him and the beings that had given them life.

It angered him to see. It angered him to be forgotten, to be tossed aside by both creator and brother. His first walks on the changed world were filled with rage and violence. Blood followed at his feet and Archangel became a thing to be feared as readily as it was revered.

Rage is a strong emotion to sustain, however, and eventually he woke from it to find a world of children as lost as he was. Deprived of even the small gifts he still held to from his creators they wandered through fleeting lives desperately grasping for some kind of hope that there was something more to their small existence. He had felt a brief kinship with them then, and raged again at the beings that had thrown them away so callously.

Saddened and still alone he had retreated again to a long sleep, the last resort of a dying immortal.

Time passed and his name faded deeper into myth, subtly mutated with each voice that spoke it. He had not intended to wake again, but in time one of his brief-lived siblings had stumbled upon him. He had found pity in himself then, and when the child had fallen before him in fear and praise he had known that sleeping was not a solution. He was not the only one that suffered for the rejection of so long ago. He was not the only one that deserved a kind of retribution.

He had done something he had not known he was capable of then, and taken a piece of himself to give the sibling-child. He had changed the human, as his gods had once changed him.

Someday, he had vowed, his name would be known again for what it was.

Someday, gods would fall at the feet of his great army.

* * *

In the middle of a unplottable sea there is an impossible island. Its shores are lined with lethal fences made of raging water and ragged stones. Its land is patrolled by creatures that have long been dead and some that never really were alive. It is an island virtually untouched by man. It is a reflection of the past, a home that clings to old memories long forgotten. 

In its center lies a temple to a forgotten savior. A lost child and an ancient god wrapped into one fragile entity. Here is his eternal refuge, a place he has slept and dreamed for many millennium.

The power that flows from the stone walls frightens even the trees from coming too close to the stone shrine. The area around it is silent, the wildlife unwilling to intrude upon the sacred earth.

Within the temple lies a dying angel, asleep as time passes without him. He has slept too long, and the hibernation is hard to break away from. He has given away too much of his life and there is so very little left for himself.

Whispers echo in his ears from far away. Lives that are connected to his own filter back to him, keep him silently informed of the world that is ripening for his future. There is one voice that he observes more closely than the others. It is new, a voice that does not yet truly have a face to him, one that has been engineered during his long sleep. It is a voice that has stepped outside of its place.

Its whispers are vicious. Mutinous.

It is a voice that must be silenced.

In a sacred forgotten temple, on an impossible lost island, golden eyes open to take in the world once more. Unnoticed by the world outside of his home a sleeping giant awakens.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Its been suggested that Alkanphel's name may well be derived from the title Archangel. Interestingly, there's more than a bit of support for the connection in religion (see Wikipedia entry on Archangel) 

I'm taking a lot of liberty with the past writing some of this, mostly because there are huge gaps in what's been written so far in the manga. Hopefully it all follows well enough to stand on its own.


	8. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6  
**

* * *

:NEVER AGAIN: The words reverberated in Sho's mind. 

Panting, he tried to calm his racing heartbeat as he allowed the concerned unit to heal the minor burns that traced the surface of his body. It was right, that had been entirely too close for comfort. The vamore's laser had appeared to completely destroy his body, so at least it had indeed served its purpose. Still...

:NEVER: the unit continued, and Sho managed a small pained smile at its concern for his wellbeing. To be sure, if worse came to it, he was fairly confident it could regenerate him anyway, but the idea of being effectively cloned was never one that had set right with him and clearly the guyver unit shared his distaste for the concept.

:I agree, that's not something I have any desire to repeat: he consoled, finally regaining enough presence of mind to look around himself. He'd pulled back into the subspace dimension that the units rested in successfully. Around him the colors were muted and the view seemed to ripple slightly as if it were being projected onto a screen that was fluttering in a gentle the wind. No sound filtered through the thin veil and for a moment he allowed himself the novelty of watching Makishima and the small array of zoaniods battle in complete silence.

:now your dead - plan to help: the unit demanded, and Sho knew from its tone that it would be some time before it forgave him the risky stunt.

:yeah: he agreed, slowly shifting forward against the drag of subspace. Moving in the odd not-atmosphere was slow going, the sensation was more like swimming or walking through some kind of viscous fluid and Sho found it to be rather inefficient without the gigantic. Still, at times like this it had its uses.

Scanning the area around the battlefield he managed to move behind a pile of rubble near one of the school walls that he sensed was not under any scrutiny. Sliding out of subspace with a small pop he was abruptly assaulted with all the sounds of battle and a cut off mental cry for help from Makishima.

:...elp right now, GuyverIII:

Wincing at the noise level he frowned at the realization that the guyvers couldn't communicate with one another through the veil. That was a bit troublesome, but now that he was aware of it he should be able to work around it.

:Calm down: He ordered the dark guyver, as he shot out from behind the pile of stones, arcing up over the battlefield that had once been a schoolyard. There were a little over a dozen zoaniods left. The bulk were Ramotith and other lower level strength types. Two Vamores and a Gregole flanked Zerebubus, taking potshots at Makishima whenever the dark guyver attempted an evasion.

:Up. Now: He ordered again, and was not surprised when Makishima was quick to follow, dodging two blasts from each respective laser-type as he went. Sho took a brief moment to survey him as the dark guyver hovered beside him. His armor was covered in scorch marks and at least one megasmasher was down for the count from what looked like a small explosive impact. :You won't last much longer: he decided quickly. :stay behind me:

:ah...: The dark guyver agreed readily.

Sho considered his options quickly, the megasmashers would be extremely destructive in such close quarters, but there weren't many other ways to deal swiftly with the situation. The school was evacuated, and though it might destroy most of it, if he aimed straight down...

And used just one laser...

Sho rose upward swiftly, Makishima keeping pace with him. He was immensely greatful that none of the zoaniods present were flier types.

:clear: his unit informed, and he was pleased that one of them had found the presence of mind to do a scan for any stragglers in the school building.

He pried open a chest plate, feeling the guyver's ultimate weapon charging against his chest.

"What are you...?" Makishima demanded beside him, and Sho smirked as he realized that the dark guyver hadn't yet found out about the guyver's most devastating power yet.

"Ending this." He replied cheerfully, a moment before the hum of the laser eclipsed all sound for a half second before the weapon discharged in a vibrant light show.

The explosion that followed rocketed debris up as high as the two guyvers hovered and Sho deftly dodged a few of the larger chunks. Makishima, as drained as he seemed to be, did not fare quite as well. It was a very long moment before the dust began to clear, revealing the massive crater left in the wake of the blast.

He'd managed to discharge the blast before the weapon had completely charged itself, but the effect was still devastating, only a small portion of the school remained standing, most of the largest structure and surroundings in ruins. Sho supposed he should feel guilty about it, but for some reason when he was encased in the guyver armor it was harder to grasp his life from before. He would have worried about that, but it was proving to be somewhat convenient to be able to easily fall back on decades of combat hardening.

"We shouldn't linger." He informed the dark guyver, turning quickly when his unit alerted him to a problem. He caught Makishima just as he fell forward out of the armor. "That would have been a very long fall." He mused, trying to stifle the small bit of amusement he felt at the idea of Agito Makishima dying in such an unimpressive manner.

The other boy didn't respond and Sho hefted him over his shoulder as it became apparent his companion had passed out and wasn't going to be waking again soon. Scanning around them briefly for any signs of remaining recording devices, the blue guyver turned towards where he recalled the Onuma's home to be.

"You're heavy." He informed his passenger mildly. The youth didn't respond and Sho chuckled a little to himself as he flew.

Somewhere across town he had no doubt a zoalord was seething at that moment.

* * *

Shizu Onuma was not someone who was easily startled. She had grown up as a servant to the Makishima household, a family that had been host to some very strange and powerful people over the years her family had worked for them. She had seen most anything she felt was worth being shocked by in her youth and had found over the years that it did not help her or those she cared about to startle easily. 

Still when she answered the door to the small safe house to find an alien carrying one Agito Makishima she hadn't been able to smother a surprised yelp in response.

"Shizu Onuma, I presume." The alien... or maybe it was a zoaniod spoke clearly enough, its voice sounded vaguely male but otherwise unfamiliar. She nodded blankly a few times before it sank in that whatever it was, it was carrying an unconscious (and gods please let him be unconscious and not dead) body that belonged to her beloved.

"Agito!" She practically attacked them both then, panic flooding her as she rushed to confirm that he was alive. The... whatever it was, shifted Agito's weight onto her shoulders agreeably, not appearing especially surprised or distressed by her actions.

"He'll be fine, he's only worn out." It... he offered. Shizu nodded at him in acknowledgement, but still checked Agito's pulse before she calmed somewhat.

"Who are you? What's happened?" She demanded, her protective instincts kicking in. Agito might be unconscious and she might be facing down some kind of battle creature with no weapons or defenses whatsoever, but she'd be damned before she let the situation walk away from her.

"Heh." The armored form chuckled dryly. "He got into a bit of trouble. Chronos is on to him now I'm afraid. I don't know how much you know about the situation..." He paused hopefully, but Shizu only frowned in response. Everything she knew about Agito and his plans was knowledge held in confidence and she wasn't about to betray it regardless of the strange circumstances.

"Well, anyway." He continued after an awkward moment. "He overexerted himself... should be fine after a good rest." His voice sounded mildly impressed as he watched her heft the youth, only partially dragging him into the house to lay him out on the couch.

Shizu settled Agito quickly before turning back to the armored man that was hovering a bit nervously by the door, clearly disinclined to enter without permission which she wasn't about to give him without at least her grandfather there if not Agito awake.

"How did you know to come here?" She demanded, placing herself in the entrance just to make sure he didn't change his mind and try to come in.

"Ah... well, he told me... sort of."

"He told you, sort of?" She prompted, but one of the strange orb things on his head was moving, and he had tilted his head to one side as if listening to something she couldn't hear.

"Sorry, I really need to go now. I think your grandfather's on his way home." He turned and jumped, catching in the air strangely. Shizu blinked as she watched him hover there for a moment before waving at her cheekily. "I'll be around, it was nice to meet you!"

And then just like that he was gone, little more than a blue-ish blur left in his wake.

Shizu stared after him for a long moment before the sound of tires on gravel drew her attention back to the present. She would find out what the whole odd episode was about as soon as Agito awoke, in the mean time she needed to see to his comfort and fill her grandfather in on the strange situation.

* * *

As Hyper-zoaniods went, Panadyne was not anything truly special. He had been an early experiment with liquid explosives that had been favorable and he knew there were now variants of his abilities spread among a number of more sophisticated hypers developed in the years since his creation. He was unremarkable in more ways than mere talent though. His human guise was astonishingly average, a little on the tall side, but with a face and mannerism that was easy to overlook. 

He was popular as a bodyguard for this reason. He faded into backdrops unobtrusively, making his presence conspicuous only when required. He did not seek to contribute input or commentary, nor care if anyone acknowledged his presence or services. He merely stood back and watched and waited for orders.

He was popular as a spy for the same reasons.

He was, at that moment, assigned to one Reichman Guyot. Who was, incidentally, a very unhappy man just then.

It was hard to tell if the current commander's displeasure could be blamed more on the confirmed activation of the third guyver unit or the utter failure of the attempt to subdue one Agito Makishima. Panadyne supposed the ultimate outcome of the morning's attack would have been enough to induce a foul mood even if they had managed to bring in the boy. Most of a school campus had been destroyed, leaving all manner of PR work to be handled. The vast majority of the Chronos Japan branch was out doing damage control. The few that were still in the building were making a concerted effort to stay out of the rampaging commander's way.

Not of course that Reichman Guyot was throwing a tantrum. Such a thing would have been beneath the man. But there was rage there, along with a need to vent it and anyone that could not give the man an answer he liked was being subject to some very quiet deadly screaming.

Being what he was, the commander was leaving a rash of violent headaches in his wake.

Following the man like a shadow, Panadyne found a thread of pleasure in the pain of his compatriots. A hyper had been lost that morning, and a part of him that felt a certain sibling-like attachment to his elite fellows was distressed at the loss. Though it was not precisely unexpected, the defeat of a hyper-zoaniod was a cause for some alarm. Such a sound and violent defeat rather more so.

He had not known Zerebubus well, but the hyper had been processed a few months after him and he was a familiar presence if not a friendly one. Panadyne was not young enough anymore to be finding commonality in new recruits. It was a loss to his generation, and for that he morned.

It was not, however, a particular loss to him emotionally. And so he trailed placidly after his assignment as the man raged futily at those unfortunate to cross his path.

* * *

Fumio Fukamachi knew something was wrong the moment he turned the corner and saw the police officer standing in front of his door. The officer looked uncomfortable as he turned his hat about in his hands and he froze when he spotted Fumio. The man's eyes said a thousand terrible things. 

"Fukamachi-san?" The officer prompted as he walked forward, his steps dragging with the desire not to confirm his terrible premonition. In the question he heard a million unvoiced horrors. The words another officer had said to him once echoed in his mind as he approached.

'Sir, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but your wife...'

He stopped before the officer, considering the man before him. He was young, younger than the man that had come to tell him of his wife's death. A small scar was visible on his chin and his nose was a little crooked from what was probably an old break. He looked very unhappy about the news he was carrying. The man that had told him about his wife had been emotionless and inwardly Fumio wondered if the look of concern was a good sign or a bad one.

"Yes," He agreed after a too-long pause. "I'm Fumio Fukamachi." He introduced, bracing himself as well as he could for whatever news was about to come.

"Sir, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but there was an accident today. Your son... I'm so very sorry." The young officer's words faded out into the sound of blood rushing in his ears. Beneath him Fumio felt his world shatter.

Somewhere that seemed very far away the young officer knelt awkwardly, offering hollow consolations to the broken man.

* * *

Mizuki Segawa did not as a rule believe in things like precognition. To be sure she read her horoscope every day and had played with silly superstitious toys like tarot cards or ouji boards with her friends from time to time. But it was all just in fun, silly games with no basis in reality. 

Even so, when the phone rang that evening she couldn't bring herself to pick it up for the dark chill that ran down her spine. She found herself sitting frozen and staring at it as is rang. Once. Twice... after the third ring her brother came into the room to pick it up, sparing her a brief annoyed glance for making him get up from his homework. She turned away from him and stared down at her school notebook. The words there seemed foreign and meaningless suddenly.

"Hello?" Tetsuro's voice sounded odd to her ears. She wanted to get up and leave, but her body was frozen in place. She watched the small frown on her brother's face twist in confusion. "Mr Fukamachi? What's..."

She knew the moment Sho's father told Tetsuro what had happened. She could read it in the look of disbelief and shock on her brother's face, but more than that, she could feel it in the fierce ache that attacked some small place in her chest she'd never really noticed before.

She did not hear if her brother said anything more on the phone, but when he turned to her to tell her the news he found she was already crying.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I pretty much ignored anything that might have suggested Panadyne's character from the manga. Originally he pops up after Zerebubus is killed and does the reckless "I will have vengeance!" spiel and then dies pretty quickly thereafter. Rather unspectacularly I might add. I needed a character and not a suicidal pea-brain so I grabbed his name and scrapped anything he might have done or suggested in his three or four canon lines. 

Otherwise. Still alive and kicking. Just taking awhile.


	9. Interlude 2

**Interlude 2 – Grandfather Time**

* * *

Somewhere in Japan there was a hidden underground cavern where there lived a very old, very hardened man.

Once, when he had been very young and naive he'd been optimistic about life, perhaps even cheerful in his daily pursuits. He'd made his way in the world as a mapmaker then and had spent much of his days traveling, eager to experience all the world's grand scope... reveling in life's many wonders.

When he had simply been old, and not yet of the very sort, he had been a relatively happy eccentric. He'd outlived his brother and sisters by then, and did not have any children of his own. He'd planned his last voyages and enjoyed outwitting the youngsters that shared his travels. They had all called him a crazy old coot, but he'd lived long enough by then not to mind the unappreciative nature of youth.

One very normal day he had believed it was his time to die. He had woken and been possessed of the idea that he would not see the sun rise again. In a way he had not been wrong, for the man he'd been had never really lived again afterwards... had never again experienced the world around him in the same way.

He had begun that day with a squabble with a ship captain. The man wanted to cut through an uncharted area of ocean in hopes of making up time they'd lost in the storm the night before. He'd advised against it, noting that it was an area where many ships were known to have been lost.

He had ended that day with a new identity, proven right in his concerns and wrong in every belief he held dear.

Now centuries later, Dr. Hamical Barcus, chief scientist for the Chronos corporation, existed in a world of monsters of his own creation. Devils, abominations, they would have been called in his own time. Now they were the wave of the future, the next evolutionary step for humanity... the future army he had built for a being he'd bowed to that long ago day as an angel or perhaps even a god.

For the large part he was pleased with his creations. They made him something like a god in his own right, and in a detached way they were like children to him. For their part they often acted as such. Always there was at least one that seemed to want to act as a child - rebellious, unable to see the larger picture of life... Too young still to understand what they were challenging.

"Dr. Barcus?" The soldier that interrupted his thoughts was faceless, as all the troops were, hidden beneath a mask and a uniform. They had no individual identity, but even so each was still special to him. This one was only a foot soldier really, a lower level flier, one especially suited to recon. Barcus though he might recognise him but it was always hard to tell if he was confusing him with another soldier of the same type.

"Yes?" He prompted, turning from his contemplation of several growth tracking readouts that were splayed before him on a massive monitor. Modern technology was a wonderful blessing from the old days. He could develop and monitor dozens of his creations at the same time now, rather than being restricted by what he and his recruited scientific fellows could manage manually.

In his more philosophic moments he wondered if it was a sign that humanity was ready for the coming transition that they had provided him with such things.

"I have a report for you from Panadyne regarding Commander Guyot." Hamical nodded and accepted the thin manilla folder being offered him. Dismissing the recon soldier with a casual wave he flipped through the contents in disappointment.

Very few of his fellows used such unsophisticated means of communication, but he found it comforting to have information presented in such a straightforward manner. Besides that, when spying on his most powerful creations it was always easier to sneak such transmissions past them. They were often on alert for psychic or electronic interference in those around them, but very few could be bothered to worry about more mundane forms of subterfuge.

Guyot was especially bad in this respect. His arrogance and fascination with his own power blinded him to those around him. He was being obvious in his mutiny and Hamical found himself disappointed in the lack of creativity behind his rebellion. He expected more of his masterpieces. He had built them each with such care, every feature and ability refined again and again to perfection.

They were like the intricate diagrams he'd once etched so carefully upon his maps, each one containing thousands of bits of information, minute details he had inscribed with a master's precision upon their forms and even into their minds. To have one so deficient was a scar upon his grand canvas.

It was unacceptable – Guyot would have to be erased and redone.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Chapter 7 is finally finished and should be up in the next week (just needs some clean-up work now). Unfortunately there will probably be a long break again after that unless my life magically reorders itself in the near future, but for what its worth I haven't abandoned this. 


	10. Chapter 7

**Author's Notes: ** All talk & no blood and guts. I feel sort of lacking in the blood and guts right now. Maybe I should kill someone?

"Will we see Mizuki/Tetsuro/Daddy-Fukimachi ever again?"

Maybe yes, maybe no. I have somewhere I'm going with Tetsuro, but I haven't decided yet if he's making it back into 20-20 or if he's getting his own (20-20verse) side-story. In general, it likely won't be pretty if they do come back into the picture.

Thanks for everyone who has reviewed this so far, I really appreciate it – and it reminds me that there are people out there who actually want to read this, and as someone who's waited (im)patiently for other authors to send out new chapters to fics... well, anyway it reminds me to work on it :)

**Summary: **Three meetings.

**Chapter 7 – Conversations in madness**

* * *

In the outskirts of Tokyo a slim youth carrying a well stuffed backpack wove his way through the small crowd near the subway towards a newsstand. His appearance was forgettable; he was dressed in the seeming uniform of all youth – jeans and a nondescript blue t-shirt. Young, he might have been in High School or just entering University, with his hair cut in a way that was a little too disorganized to be stylish and crammed carelessly under a baseball cap. 

All in all, his presence was largely dismissed and even the man at the newsstand only blinked at him once uncaring when he put down money for a newspaper.

Sho Fukamachi smiled to himself as he wove back out of the crowd. Hiding in plain sight was always easier that trying to disappear.

Flipping through the paper, he was only mildly surprised to find news of the School's demolition buried halfway into the first section. Chronos would want it to be insignificant and the paper he'd picked up wasn't small enough to devote large amounts of space to a mostly resolved local incident. The article itself was fairly bland. It stated simply that there had been an explosive gas leak at the school but fortunately no students had been injured.

Feeling a touch of amusement he flipped forward to the obituaries, finding the one he was looking for hidden with no picture partway down the page. Apparently he'd been killed in a car accident. He was almost surprised that they hadn't just had him blown up in the school's explosion, but it made a certain sense if he thought about. A student death would spark investigations and a Chronos cover up could only go so deep, they would want to avoid drawing even a small amount of extra attention to the so called explosion.

He noted that a memorial service was being held the following week and briefly entertained the notion of sneaking in. It was a bad idea though and he tossed it aside moments later. Just then, the most important thing was tracking down an old friend. If he was right, the man should be somewhere in the area right about then.

* * *

A lost one walked the barren halls of a hidden military base with a strange sense of foreboding. He was one of a handful of broken creatures, beings whose re-creation had failed and left them eternally damaged. His life was unkind for this reason. He was considered less worthy for his failed transformation and so he endured all manner of torture in the name of salvaging himself. 

He was philosophical about his existence, however. For all his pain and suffering and persecution he had one thing over his more revered kin. He was unique, and as such was not expendable. When he was summoned it was for special missions, covert and priority. He and his kind were preferred for special tasks sometimes even over the most advanced of his fellows, the so called "hypers", for their abilities were often highly specialized and highly desired for such things as assassination or recon.

His own uniqueness had brought him a degree of favor of late, his ability to simulate virtually anything a talent that had proved very useful time and again. He would have been extremely valuable if he'd been stable and reproducible, but even as it was he was fast becoming the assassin of choice for the old man that reined supreme over the base he called home.

He was curious now as he approached the doctor's laboratory what task awaited him. He as only summoned for two reasons, and the lack of a medical escort suggested that, this time at least, it was unlikely to be a dip in the embryonic soup. It was logical then that he would be sent out on a mission of some kind, but there was no hint in his summons to imply what that mission might be.

When he arrived in the lab the doctor looked as old and unimpressive as he always did. It was a deceptive vision, and one quickly dispelled when the old man turned that frighteningly sharp gaze on a person. His eyes did not quite belong in his face, they were too aware, too cutting for the kind old man he might otherwise appear to be.

It was not hard, when looking into those eyes, to believe this was a man that had designed and controlled vast armies.

It was hard to tell if years of training or the odd power the old man exuded was what pushed him into a respectful kneel before the doctor. He did not question it anymore.

"Punctual as always, Aptom." The voice was coarse with age, a gravely sound that was never as loud as its echo in his mind.

"You have a task for me." It was only half a question, and the doctor laughed thinly at the slight impertinence.

"You have met Commander Guyot." It wasn't a question, and he chose to remain silent as the doctor turned to consult a slim file on one of the lab desks. The paper folder seemed somewhat out of place among all the aluminum and technology that made up the base, but Aptom was used to the old man's eccentricities and was not surprised. He had submitted his own handwritten reports to the man before and knew that if he was thumbing through one it probably meant there was some kind of internal intrigue going on.

"I have a need to have him return to Relic's Point. He's seen fit to leave in search of something that was stolen from us a few weeks ago." The doctor paused to offer him a significant look. It was a test of sorts, to see if he'd heard any rumors.

"The unit-Gs." It wasn't something that was widely known at Chronos just yet, but Aptom prided himself on knowing things that were not widely known. The doctor smiled at him darkly, and it was as always hard to tell if the man was pleased he was aware of the situation or annoyed at whomever had let it slip. Most likely the two scientists whom he had heard speaking of the theft would not still be there when he returned from this mission.

"Indeed." The doctor agreed, "It seems they have all fallen into other hands. We shall, of course, need to work on retrieving them... but that is for a later time I think. At the moment I only require you to bring Reichman Guyot to me."

"Sir?" He frowned a little. Retrieval was not a task he was often given.

"You wonder why I have chosen you for this." One of the thick grey brows raised in his direction.

"Yes." He agreed. It hadn't been a question, but he felt compelled to agree anyway.

"You are special. Unusual. You and those like you are not as receptive to telepathic commands. Guyot is stubborn, I do not trust him not to try to... _persuade_ any I send to his own causes. He will not openly defy my request in any case, but he will be unable to suggest it is not as immediate to one such as yourself." The doctor paused. "Guyot's psychic abilities are substantially less than my own. You will not have a problem resisting any attempts he might make at control."

Aptom nodded, and dropped his gaze to the floor. He understood abstractly that it took the doctor a great deal more energy to command him than it did for him to command a normal zoaform, but the old man had never failed to force him to submit. Guyot as a member of the great council was known to have a similar ability. It was well known among the troops that it was a lost cause to object to a council member's orders, but he was well enough aware that Guyot's abilities in this area were not of the same level of talent as Barcus' own.

"You will leave immediately." Barcus continued, his attention already sliding away from Aptom and back to the processing feeds. "I have need of Reichman by the the end of the week."

"As you will, sir." Aptom bowed his head in acknowledgement. It would be nice to get out of the mountain for a bit, and he was always interested in watching a bit of intrigue unfold.

As he backed out of the room quietly he wondered what the commander had done to incur the doctor's wrath. It was something that would no doubt be great fun to find out.

* * *

Masaki Murikami stifled a groan as a persistent ray of sunlight stabbed at his eyelids. He was reluctant to admit to being awake, mostly because he had a headache the size of Japan and he was a little worried his stomach was about to try to crawl up his throat. Groping blindly around he tried to find anything to cover his eyes. Instead he unbalanced and toppled gracelessly off of the couch he'd passed out on. 

He allowed the groan to surface then, hoping he'd not just added a concussion to his list of aches and pains, and unwillingly cracked open an eye to stare up at the ceiling. Overhead a fan was spinning slowly and he found the motion to be vaguely hypnotic and extremely nauseating.

He slammed his eyes back shut and decided the floor was a fine place to go back to sleep. He'd almost succeeded in just that when he heard the sound of a door opening nearby.

Confusion and annoyance warred for dominance in his mind and his eyes jerked open again to inspect the room. He _thought_ he'd made it back to his hotel room the night before, but no one else should have been able to get in and he'd been very firm in his request that the maids _Stay Out_.

The ceiling looked right when he squinted at it, and the couch and coffee table that took up most of his field of vision appeared familiar, more or less. Those were definitely footsteps approaching though, and he stifled another pained sound from escaping him as he struggled upwards into a sitting position to confront whatever was going on.

Black spots momentarily clouded his vision and he rubbed futily at his temple, waiting for them to pass. The footsteps stopped and as his vision cleared he found a cheerful looking boy standing in front of him, a plastic shopping bag in one hand and what looked suspiciously like the keys to his room in the other.

"Good morning!" The boy chirped and Masaki felt his stomach drop.

Fact: strange boy in the hotel. Fact: strange boy appears to know him. Fact: suffering from really massive hangover. Shit.

He really really hoped he hadn't done something stupid... well stupider than usual anyway, the night before.

"I'll make us some coffee." The boy offered, not looking at all distressed at his reaction, or lack thereof. Masaki stared after him, trying to pull at memories through the haze of headache and cotton which seemed to be the primary composition of his brain just then.

He'd gone out drinking, hell bent on a night of pure self-pity before he pulled himself together and reported back his failure to Odagiri. He remembered a bar and a lot of smoke and a lot of alcohol and then he thought he remembered stumbling home and falling onto the couch, but there was a lot of time in there that was kind of muddy and really with his talents and his penchant not to be very good at controlling them when drunk there was no guarantee anything he remembered after shot number eight was actually _his_ memory and not the property of some telepathically sensitive individual he'd accidentally tapped into.

"Here. Black, one sugar." The boy was back and interrupting his mental dilemma then. Masaki accepted the mug without really realizing it and it hit him as he took the first sip that the kid knew how he liked his coffee. He wasn't sure if that was a good or bad sign but it was extremely disconcerting.

The boy left again after passing off the mug and Masaki craned his neck around the side of the couch to watch him as he moved to prepare his own cup. It seemed to be made up of more milk and sugar than coffee. The clock on the counter of the mini-kitchen beside the kid proclaimed it was almost noon, which was still about four hours before he'd wanted or expected to wake up that day.

He returned his attention to the mug of caffeine with a bit more intensity.

The boy wandered back towards him, seating himself comfortably on the couch, mug in one hand and a newspaper in the other. Masaki contemplated why it hadn't occurred to him to try to pull himself back up, but staring at the kid and the height of the cushions he decided that it wasn't worth trying just then. Even if sitting on the floor next to the boy's knees wasn't very dignified.

"So..." He began. Trying to think of a not really offensive way of finding out who the kid was and what he was doing in his room. The possibilities in his head weren't especially good and the kid looked young. Way too young. And Masaki Murikami, however incredibly screwed up and depressed and generally terminally insane he could sometimes be, really did not think he was a pedophile – or at least was really really hoping not – and there was going to be absolutely no alcohol in his future ever again.

"Sometimes I wonder what to do you with, Masaki." The boy sighed a little and folded the paper, putting it aside. He looked like a put-upon parent which was almost bizarre enough to ignore the freakishly familiar way he was addressing an older man. One who happened to have no idea who this kid was or where he came from. Almost.

"Excuse me?" Masaki managed, trying to ignore the slight sputter he though he might have heard from himself.

"You've no self preservations instincts whatsoever, you know that?" The boy continued, ignoring his shocked outburst. "I'm sure you'll be happy to know I drove your car back last night. Its intact, which is really a miracle considering where you left it parked." The kid was studying the steam off his mug of mutilated coffee rather intently as he spoke, as if what he was saying was nothing at all out of the ordinary.

Masaki had to admit it was nice to know his car was safe though. He probably should have thought of that the night before.

"I suppose I should be happy you were still in town," The kid eyed him reproachfully. "Even if it was just so you could get sloshed and mope." For some reason the moping comment shook Masaki from his stupor.

"Who ARE you, exactly?" He demanded.

"You don't remember me?" The boy pouted, looking hurt. Masaki winced.

"Sorry..." He began, and mentally wondered where his gun was so he could shoot himself.

"I'm hurt, cut to the quick even." The kid continued smoothly, smothering a rising smirk into his mug as the older man realized he'd been had. Masaki growled at him in annoyance and wondered if he were up to throwing the brat bodily out of the room.

"I have a really bad hangover right now, kid. So explain, quickly and clearly, because I'm not a nice person when I have a headache." The twerp actually had the gal to roll his eyes at the threat.

"And how." The boy agreed. "So then, quickly and clearly. Lets see..." The brat leaned back and propped his feet carelessly on the coffee table. "You are Masaki Murikami, one time investigative reporter, now..."

"I know who the fuck I am, kid." Masaki interrupted, his aggravation starting to overrule his hangover for control over his actions.

The kid just gave him a _look_.

"As I was saying," The boy continued, an astonishingly convincing warning in his tone. "You are Masaki Murikami, former reporter, now Chronos scrap meat." Masaki felt himself go very still at that proclamation as a whole new set of Very Bad possible scenarios for the boy's presence rocketed through his mind.

"You came back to Japan on the request of a Dr. Yoshio Odagiri to look for the Unit-Gs which were stolen from Chronos a bit over a month ago." The boy was watching him for a reaction, but Masaki was suspecting he might just be paralyzed right then. "Now you're going to have to help me with some of the details of this next bit, because I don't really know for sure what precisely you've been up to the past few weeks."

"I'm assuming you've been discreetly overseeing what's been going on with Chronos' Japan branch lately. That means that you're aware as of yesterday that all three Guyver units have been activated. Knowing you this is probably what the drinking was about, though that doesn't make it any less reckless or stupid." Masaki snorted at being lectured by a kid that might have been young enough to be his son. Then he froze again at the memory of the previous days events.

"How can you know all this?" He pressed, trying to figure the kid out. He still seemed way too young to be a Chronos minion. They weren't exactly ethical about it, but they didn't like processing kids. They suffered lower success rates for some reason.

"I'm getting to that." The brat reached back for the paper he'd abandoned, flipping to the page about a school gas main explosion that both of them clearly knew had nothing to do with a gas main. "You were... where?" The kid prompted, waving at the photo that headed the story.

"On the roof of the corporate building." He pointed to a nearby unremarkable office building just barely in the picture. The kid squinted at it thoughtfully.

"Close enough to see everything?" He prompted.

"Mostly, some of it was blocked by the building itself." Masaki had wished at the time for a better vantage. Then the third guyver had appeared and blown the obstruction into little bitty bits.

He'd felt the need after that to remind himself to be careful what he wished for.

"Hmm. Well, regardless you'll have become aware that all the units are active now. If it makes you feel any better about it they wouldn't have been able to help your particular situation anyway. Something about the parasite doesn't deal well with that type of cellular degeneration." The boy paused and seemed to reconsider his words. "I'm getting side tracked though. You wanted quick and simple. Risker is dead, more or less, and Makishima is... well Makishima so any chance of getting either of them to help you with..." He waved a hand looking indecisive over his choice of words. "... your cause..." He decided finally, "is fairly well shot."

"This does not explain who you are or why you are here." Masaki pointed out, annoyed at the recap of his life. He knew what he'd been up, he wanted to know about the brat, not about himself.

"Doesn't it?" The boy prompted, arching an eyebrow at him in a way that made him feel small and stupid and... oh.

"Oh." He blinked at the kid several times trying to wrap his brain around the idea and hoping he wasn't outguessing himself through the lingering headache.

"Yes, 'oh'." The boy looked amused. "You're being a bit slow on the uptake this morning, Masaki. Perhaps we should talk more after you've finished your coffee."

Masaki blinked down at his forgotten mug and the cooling liquid within. He needed more than coffee. He needed aspirin and a shower and about five hours more sleep. He settled for shooting back what remained in the mug and dragging himself to his feet.

"I'm going to go... wake up. You..." He frowned at the boy who was still watching him in amusement. "You stay there." He decided, knowing it didn't really matter what he said because the kid was under no obligation to follow any requests he might make and he wasn't sure he'd be capable of forcing the brat right then.

"Of course." The kid leaned forward to retrieve the remote control for the small television across from the couch. Masaki pinched himself and tried to remember where the damn bathroom was. "There's aspirin on the counter." The boy offered.

Masaki groused and downed a handful of the little pills dry. Some days he thought he'd be happier when he was finally dead.

* * *

Agito Makishima tried hard not to scowl at the trees that blocked any real view from the windows of his safe house. The foliage served a purpose and he should not be suffering any desire to destroy it merely because he was finding himself with a touch of cabin fever. Still, he would have really enjoyed carving out a view so he could have something better to contemplate while he was thinking than leaves and the occasional squirel. 

"Master Agito?" He turned to face Yohei's polite interruption with a lifted eyebrow. The old man had been with him since he was very young and he knew that he was viewed by the man as something close to a grandchild. It wasn't a sentiment that Agito precisely returned, but it was useful and it was one of the reasons that he trusted the man. Very few people in the world could sincerely say they held Agito Makishima's trust. Two of them were in the safe house with him just then.

"Yes?" He'd heard the sound of gravel under tires a bit ago, so the old man had not been back from town long. Agito rather hoped that he'd brought with him news from one of his Chronos contacts, he was nearly going mad with the desire to be doing something. Events of late had left him without even an idea what was going on and he needed to know the situation before he could make plans, much less implement them.

"This came for you." The old man placed a large envelope on his desk, and Agito found a small smile for how well Yohei knew him not to bother with offering it directly. There were certain roles to be played between them and they had never really faded even in the unpressured atmosphere of the safe house. Yohei was a man that had been a servant all his life, and staying neatly between the lines of his station was something they both found oddly comforting.

"Thank you." He offered sincerely, turning back to his contemplation of the trees around the house. Yohei didn't respond, but he heard the door close behind the old man a few moments later.

He let a few minutes pass before he turned to the envelope thoughtfully. It was relatively nondescript, no return address and no name above the PO Box address where it had been sent. He turned it over in his hands thoughtfully a few times, not completely sure what he hopped to find within. There was a letter opener on the desk that was shaped like a sword and he pulled it free of the carved sheath to slice through the seal a bit viciously.

Something moved in his peripheral vision and he whipped around nervously to find... nothing.

Frowning at his own paranoia he turned back to the contents of the envelope. There was no note, which was not unusual really, only a series of reports bearing the Chronos letterhead. One detailed the confirmed total loss of three of Chronos' biological assets and requested instructions for containment procedures, another observed the termination of one junior trainee, Agito Makishima. There were a few memos regarding Guyot's movements including a recall to the Minakami research facility that seemed to have been issued the day before.

Something flickered again just outside of his vision and he felt every muscle in his body tense in alert. He turned more slowly this time, trying to lock onto the twist of color just outside of his awareness without making whatever it was aware of his attention.

"Generally speaking, a greeting would be polite." Agito jerked at the voice, whipping back to face forward. A few paces before him a blue armored form was leaning against the wall studying him intently.

"Come on, you can do it! 'Good Afternoon, comrade!'" The third guyver waved an arm grandly. " 'What a pleasure it is to see you!' ".

"What the hell are you doing here?" Agito growled.

"So rude." The guyver tsked at him. "I brought you here after you passed out. You expected never to see me again?"

"I could hope." He returned with a bit more venom than was strictly called for. The blue guyver got under his skin, made him nervous, and if there was one thing Agito Makishima did not like it was being on edge and outmaneuvered.

"A man once told me 'Hope is the last resort of fools and weaklings. If you wish for a thing to happen you make it happen. 'Hoping' for an occurance is a waste of perfectly good mental energy.' " The guyver paused, tilting his head slightly, and Agito thought he could hear a smirk in its silence. "I think he was a rather depressing soul, but he did have a point."

"Would you like it if I attacked you now then?" Agito pressed, dropping his papers back to the desk and crossing his arms menacingly. The third guyver did not cut a large figure, standing out of armor Agito looked eye to eye with the smaller unit and he could dream of offering a bit of physical intimidation even if such a thing was unlikely to be worth much considering.

"That might prove inconvenient for you all things said." The guyver observed, not looking the least unsettled. "Actually that was one of the things I wanted to speak with you about." Agito raised an eyebrow at that.

"You wanted to talk with me about my attacking you?"

"No, no." The guyver waved off the suggestion as if the idea of Agito being able to fight him was laughable. Considering what he'd seen of the third guyver such a thing might well be true. "If you intend to be able to use your unit at all you're going to need to practice more. The control metal imprints the more time you spend in armor. You have no endurance to speak of right now, and I will not always be around to catch you if you fall in midair."

"And so you're suggesting what – to train me?"

"In a manner of speaking." The pale guyver agreed. "There's a great deal more to this creature you've bonded yourself to than you can begin to fathom after all. I would feel... negligent, I suppose, if I were to let you run around with such a big gun and no idea how to use it. It would be such a nuisance to have you blowing up half of Tokyo in your ignorance after all."

"And you what...? Think I'm just going to take any advice you give me without question?" Agito pressed. The guyver laughed.

"I would never dream to presume such a thing." Guyver III pushed away from the wall stepping towards him, and it took Agito a moment to realize that it made no sound as it did so. "But you've become something that may one day be a power of some reckonning and its not in my best interests to allow _children_ to go running around _playing god _without some idea of the consequences."

Agito winced inwardly at the words, wondering again just who the hell this man was that wore the pale armor. He could think of no one that should even be able to guess at the things the guyver was implying it knew about him.

"There is a price to be payed for wearing that armor you've stolen, Agito Makishima." The pale guyver circled him slowly, and it was all Agito could do to stand still and allow the scrutiny. "Its paid most often in blood and while you may think now that you have no problem with paying that price, I can assure you that someday you'll wish you hadn't." The guyver stopped before him, cocking its head to once side as if in thought.

"Spend time in the armor if you want to stay alive. Learn all you can about it. Perhaps if you do this I may even stop by and offer some assistance from time to time." One of its head orbs rotated forward, focusing on something outside of the room. Agito turned as the door opened and Shizu entered carrying a tray.

"I've brought you something to eat." She smiled kindly at him, not looking at all surprised by the guyver that still hovered somewhere just behind him.

"She can't see me." The voice he was coming to hate whispered in his ear. Agito tried not be too disturbed by what Shizu's lack of awareness implied about the encounter.

"Thank you." He managed a strained smile for the girl, turning slightly so that he was facing the windows again.

"Why come here and tell me these things?" He wondered, keeping his voice a touch too low for Shizu to hear.

"Its entirely possible, my friend, that I was never here to begin with." The voice echoed more mentally than auditory and Agito shook his head in frustration as the pale guyver was abruptly not there anymore.

"Agito?" Shizu looked concerned when he glanced back at her and he drew himself together quickly.

"I'm fine." He assured, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Just not quite recovered from earlier." She nodded, her gaze still concerned but made no further comments.

Inwardly, Agito Makishima wondered if he were going mad.

* * *

**Author's End Note:** Hmm, I hope I've not pissed anyone off with the Murikami stuff. Just wanted to be written that way.

Also, it seems silly to agonize over it but I couldn't find Odagiri's first name anywhere in my English manga and I'm just praying that I translated it right. It was a pain in the butt just to locate it, and we will not go into how uninspired my grasp on the Japanese language (and especially the writing system) is.

**Next Time: **Makishima seeks therapy, Murikami seeks Answers, Aptom seeks something to maim and Sho seeks... well, that's a secret.


	11. Chapter 8

**Author's Notes: ** Hey, look at me go! I promised this early in June and for once I've actually managed to finish it in my set time frame.

There is battles coming, I swear... if I can just get everyone to stop talking and start beating each other up...

Thanks as always for reading and especially to those of you that keep reviewing! )

**Summary: **Somehow everyone gets pointed in the same direction.

**Chapter 8 – The Beginning of the End**

* * *

Masaki glared at his reflection in the fogged mirror in disgust. Aspirin, a shower and more coffee later he felt at least mostly human (and wasn't that an irony?), though his eyes still looked dark and bloodshot. He wondered in annoyance if it would be weird to wear his sunglasses inside. The brat that was presumably still occupying his couch might take it as a sign of weakness though.

Disgusted with himself and his predicament he ran a hand through his drying hair and decided it didn't matter at that point anyway. He'd been caught off guard. He'd just have to make the best of the situation.

He could hear the television on as he left the bathroom. Some chipper-voiced woman was talking about the weather for the upcoming weekend. He tried not to grouse over that and schooled his features into what he hoped was a neutral expression.

His self control lasted just long enough for him to step into the room and find the weird kid cleaning his gun.

His _Gun._

He could feel a nervous twitch starting around his left eye.

"Feel better?" The boy grinned up at him as he reassembled the last of the massive sidearm with a resounding click and Masaki could only glower down at him in disgust. Obliviously, the kid turned his attention back to the gun, lifting it to sight down the barrel at the TV announcer.

"That's not a toy." He informed the brat. At his side he could feel his hand twitching possessively.

"I was always kind of fond of this thing." The boy observed, which made absolutely no sense whatsoever because the gun had been custom-made for Masaki by a man that had probably been dead since before the kid was out of grade school. The boy gave the weapon a final swipe with a polishing cloth before flipping it around and offering him the grip. "You should take better care of it, I found it wedged under the passenger seat."

Masaki just managed not to rip a few of the kid's finger's away with the weapon. Fingering the smooth metal reassuringly he tried not to think too hard about how much the thing weighed and what it said about the kid that he'd passed it over so easily.

"I assume you have questions." The boy was wiping grease from his hands and watching the pretty newswoman rather intently, but the fact that there were only two of them in the apartment made it abundantly clear he was talking to Masaki.

Feeling stubborn, he refused to answer. Leaning back against the wall he instead took the opportunity t o look the kid over curiously. He hadn't really been able to spare the mental effort earlier to analyze the brat, but since the boy was very studiously not looking his way just then he was going to try to rectify that.

He was a rather average looking kid, Masaki decided after a moment. A little on the pretty side maybe, but not outstandingly so. Maybe a bit short for his age... that or even younger than Masaki's initial estimation. Probably mid teens though he might just barely be passable as nineteen or so. Messy hair that fell carelessly into his face and neat but unremarkable clothing, a dark gray sweater and jeans. Sneakers that had seen better days... something tied around his neck and tucked into the front of his top that was hard to make out. It didn't look like a necklace, but he wasn't sure what else it might be.

There was also a worn rucksack he hadn't made note of earlier that was leaned against the couch beside the boy, dark blue canvas with a worn label that identified it as being made by a company that was moderately popular with youth just then. The entire effect of the kid was so unreasonably generic it was kind of freaky.

"Who are you?" He wasn't sure he really intended to ask aloud, but it was as good a question as any to start with. The boy looked thoughtful.

"I've been called a lot of things," He began slowly, his gaze unfocussing as he spoke. "but I suppose you can call me Sho."

"You _implied_ to me that you were a guyver." Masaki pressed.

"Well, I am that." 'Sho' grinned a bit. "Or at least, I was the thing in the blue armor that blew a nice crater through that school. Something oddly satisfying about blowing up a school, you know? Not that I'd want to hurt anyone or anything... but school – not my best of times."

"Lets try focusing here." Masaki interrupted, "Yes or no answers. You activated one of the Unit-Gs?"

"Yes." The boy looked entirely amused at his obvious annoyance.

"You seem to know a lot about Chronos." He wondered, trying to guess how some random average kid would have stumbled upon the organization. The obvious answer was that random average kids _didn't_ stumble onto Chronos and so whatever appearances to the contrary this _person_ in front of him was something unusual.

"Yes." Sho agreed.

"Such as?" Masaki pressed. There was of course the possibility that the boy was bluffing about what and how much he knew, but if that was the case it was one of the better lies he'd encountered.

"Yes?" The kid was smiling cheekily now and Masaki could feel that eye twitch of his wanting to come back.

"Don't get smart." He warned, hand tightening on the grip of the Zoaniod Buster.

"You _did_ say yes or no answers." Sho pointed out. "But in the interest of good relations I suppose I can let that slide. And I know rather more about Chronos than most of the people that work there right now. For instance, I know that there is an alien ship buried under Mt. Minakami around which is constructed one of the largest Chronos bases in the world."

Masaki felt his eyes narrow at the statement. Most of Chronos didn't know about that ship, an outsider should have never even chanced on a mention of it. Just who the fuck was this kid?

"And would you mind telling me exactly how you came by this information?" He pressed.

"That is... complicated I'm afraid." Sho looked sincerely apologetic, which somehow just made Masaki all the more sceptical. "My sources would not appreciate being revealed, but I can safely say they're quite trustworthy."

"You're not doing a whole hell of a lot to convince me that _you're_ trustworthy, to hell with any anonymous sources." He pointed out. Sho sighed in response, a small bit of something that might have been remorse or might have been annoyance flickering on his face.

"Fair enough, short of revealing them, what could I do to change that for you?" The boy offered.

Masaki considered him for a moment, trying to decide what to ask. The kid hadn't done anything like attack him yet and his experiences with Chronos suggested that most of their operatives would not be as subtle as this. Chronos would have killed him in his incapacitated state hours ago.

He considered the possibility that the kid was trying to earn his trust so he would lead him to Odagiri... except it sounded as if this Sho already knew of him and again, Chronos had killed its own scientists before for less than a mild suspicion of mutiny.

"Tell me why you're here. Why did you look for me specifically?" He wondered finally.

"I'm here because I want what you want." Sho turned to face him, brown eyes hardening. "To destroy Chronos. And as for why you? Because I think I can trust where you stand on the matter. Chronos has done something unforgivable to you, Masaki Murikami, and I trust you not to forgive them for it."

"And you think its going to be easy? To take on a multi-national corporation of that size?" Masaki pushed, fishing for holes. Sho's responding smile was dark.

"I expect it to be nearly impossible." The boy told him. "But impossible is hardly a good reason to just give up. Don't you agree?"

And the thing was, Masaki did. Because Chronos had to be stopped somehow, and even with as slim a chance as he had of doing any kind of real damage to them he kept going. Because failure wasn't an option and impossible wasn't an excuse.

"So what is it, exactly, you want from me?" Masaki wondered curiously. He was a long way to trusting the kid, but if Sho was really a guyver he couldn't afford to ignore the offered help.

"What I want from you?" The boy wondered aloud. Leaning back in his seat, he let his head fall onto the back of the cushions as he stared up at the ceiling. "What I want from you – is a way into that mountain."

* * *

Aptom had only been to the Chronos Japan Branch once previously and he found the building had changed very little in the intervening years. It was still an unremarkable concrete tower, hardly unique in the mess of multi-floored offices that flanked it on three sides.

The lost number allowed himself a few minutes to survey the premises before entering. There was a small section near the base that was covered in scaffolding at the moment. The building had suffered minor damage several weeks ago due, according to the reports he'd read before leaving Relic's Point, to one inspector Oswald Risker while testing the so called "Guyver" armor and who was currently listed as being AWOL.

The outer courtyard was quiet, perhaps overly so. There was a notable lack of guards, discounting the one man he could see at the entrance, and a surprising lack of "businessmen" entering or exiting the building... which considering the size of the installation was fairly strange all by itself.

Unsure what to make of the lack of on-site personnel, he headed slowly up to the main entrance. The guard frowned at him, but didn't stop his entry.

The lobby was equally devoid of people and he paused inside the door, staring about at the empty corridors speculatively. If the rest of the building was similarly occupied, it didn't bode well for the state of the commander's search for the missing Unit-Gs. Nor did the nearsightedness of sending out all the available troops do anything to raise Aptom's opinion of the man.

At the far end of the lobby was a lone receptionist. She looked at once bored and stressed and he offered her a dark smile as he approached. She shifted nervously, her eyes unconsciously flickering towards the guard near the door.

"May I help you sir?" Her voice was steady and well trained and despite her obvious discomfort she still managed a polite smile.

He retrieved his letter from the doctor and presented it calmly alongside his ID badge, silently musing how strange it was to require such a thing. There was not a soul in Relic's Point, after all, that would fail to know a lost number on sight.

"I'm here to see the Commander." He informed her and if she was surprised by this she did an admirable job hiding it.

* * *

Reichman Guyot was not a happy man.

Not only had the idiots in the Japan branch managed to loose all three of the Unit-Gs in transit, they had managed to loose all three of the active Guyver units as well – two of which they knew the host identities of!

Worse yet, there was not a single Zoaniod in the entire facility he would have considered a suitable opponent to send after the missing guyvers even if he somehow managed to locate one. What he needed were Hypers, and the only one he had available to him at that moment was Panadyne.

He eyed the bodyguard out of the corner of his eye as he considered the problem again. The man might have qualified as a hyper-zoaniod, but his abilities would be no match for what he had seen from the units so far. And that was assuming he was willing to throw away one of his better agents to the possibility.

However frustrated he was with the situation, he was not yet at the point of such desperation.

"Sir, there's a transmission for you from one of the field operatives." The communication's panel on his desk flickered to life and he stared down at the anonymous masked face of one of Chronos' soldiers.

"Put it through." He ordered, hoping that somehow one of the Japan branch's incompetent minions had managed to uncover something. The odds so far were against it, but Reichman liked to think he could be an optimist when necessary.

"Sir?" He lifted a disdainful eyebrow as one anonymous masked face was replaced with another.

"You have some new information I presume." It was hard to tell for sure over the grainy feed, but he thought he saw the man wince at his condescending tone.

"Possibly, sir. We've located a reference in Agito Makishima's files referencing a cabin in the woods near Mount Minakami. There's not much to suggest its exact location, but we think it might be a likely choice of hideout."

Reichman sat back in his chair, considering the prospect. Agito Makishima appeared to him to be no fool, for the boy to have left a reference to some kind of hideaway was uncharacteristically sloppy. Still, he was young and he had been forced to make a very fast getaway. It wasn't outside the realms of possibility for him to have left a few such references about in his haste.

"Very good. I'll see to it a team is sent to search the area. If you find anything else, contact me immediately."

"Yes, sir." The soldier nodded and the feed cut abruptly.

Reichman considered his options for a moment. The Japan Branch's resources were already at their limits, and sending operatives as far away as Mount Minakami on an unconfirmed search would have given him pause even if that weren't the case. Relic's Point was nearby and should have an overflow of available foot soldiers, but contacting them might tip his hand. He would have preferred to involve Barcus in his manhunt only as a last resort.

Still...

The console flashed to life once more and he glared down at the lobby receptionist. She did an admirable job of not showing her discomfort at his glower.

"Commander Guyot, sir, there is a man here to see you." His frown deepened at that. He was not expecting anyone.

"Who?"

"His references are from Relic's Point, sir. And the orders check out as being from Doctor Barcus." She informed him, skirting the most obvious answer. He wondered why, and just who would be visiting him from Relic's point.

"Very well, send him up." He cut the feed before she could respond. Involving the Doctor might have just become a moot point after all, he mused.

It did not take long for the man in question to make his way up to the tower office, and when he stepped out of the elevator into the room Reichman paused mentally, reconsidering just how much must be known about his current activities.

"Well, this is unusual." He offered by way of greeting. The man only strode forward silently to present him with a sheet of letterhead belonging to Barcus that politely requested his presence at Relic's Point. "Hmm, I believe I have heard of you before, Aptom isn't it?" He questioned, glancing over the paper without moving to take it. "Strange that the Doctor would send you on such a menial errand."

"I'm sure he has his reasons." Aptom returned diplomatically, bowing politely but not as submissively as Reichman might have liked. The lost number did not look at all phased by being addressed directly by a member of the council and the commander wondered how to take that.

"Yes, I'm sure he does." He agreed. "That said, _why_ precisely are you here? Surely this summons did not require hand delivery?"

"I'm here to escort you back to Relic's Point, sir." Aptom returned calmly, and Reichman stifled annoyance at the lack of any hint of the zoaniod's true motivations. Lost Numbers were such a complete nightmare to read.

"Of course, I understand. But you must see I have pressing business to finish here. I am quite sure that if the good doctor were here he would be understanding of the situation." He gestured to the various reports strewn across his desk, pushing a bit of telepathic force behind the statement.

Aptom glanced over the mess of files rather unsympathetically.

"Unfortunately, Dr. Barcus is not here, sir. But he did give me express orders to see you back to Relic's Point expediently." The zoaniod persisted.

"And I shall make my way back as _expediently_ as possible." He agreed, a touch of a growl making it way into his voice. "But you must understand that there are things that require my attention here and now."

"As you say, sir." Aptom agreed slowly. "But my understanding of the Doctor's orders is that the situation he is recalling you for takes precedence over what you are doing here."

For a moment Reichman considered ordering Panadyne to dispose of the man. There was no telling what, exactly, the lost number's abilities were though and as with his choice not to send the bodyguard after the guyvers he knew that potentially throwing away the hyper zoaniod was unwise.

For now at least.

"Surely you can give me long enough to get a few final things in order before I leave?" He argued again, trying to keep the animosity out of his tone.

"Of course, that's not an unreasonable request." Aptom agreed, and for a moment he thought he had managed to cow the lost number at last. "Its early yet today, I'm sure Doctor Barcus would not hold it against us to leave in the morning, rather than immediately."

The commander was unable to completely stifle his anger, and it came out in a sort of twitching grimace.

"Tomorrow, of course." He agreed through gritted teeth.

"Tomorrow then." Aptom bowed again, seemingly unperturbed, before turning back to the private elevator.

Reichman snarled as the doors closed behind the man. Damnable things, Lost Numbers, and worthless disgusting mutations all of them. If he had his way they'd never be allowed out of the tanks and to hell with how_ interesting_ the doctor found them.

Forcing himself to calm he reached over to pound his call button a bit more forcefully than necessary. The generic soldier who's face came on screen looked startled, but recovered quickly.

"Sir? Something I can do for you?"

"Yes, patch me through to Relic's Point. I have something I need to have arranged from there."

* * *

Sho stared down at the streets below as he waited for Murikami to join him. The world around him moved steadily, cars flowed past on over-packed city streets, people rushed along the sidewalks. There a group of students in uniforms wandered across the street, passing the other way a businessman jogged by... late for something perhaps. Hundreds of faces belonging to hundreds of people.

And none of them knew... could even begin to realize how fragile it all was; these lives they had built.

"I wonder... is it better to know your world is about to end and be able to do nothing, or not to know and live normally until one day it all comes crashing down?" He mused absently, leaning on the railing.

:can only live as they live: The unit offered.

"I suppose..." He glanced off into the fading sunset, feeling tired suddenly.

Time marched forward around him and despite his bravado he wasn't sure at all he'd be able to prevent the future he knew from coming to be all over again.

Closing his eyes he concentrated on syncing with the guyver that was in the subspace around him. If he concentrated he could reach out with it telepathically... reach out around them. Distantly he could sense Makishima, his own unit dormant.

The other boy had always been something of an enigma and even future knowledge hadn't completely eliminated that. Agito Makishima was many things after all; ruthless, brilliant... a fighter to the core, and yet there were pieces of him that Sho had only glimpsed, old wounds and weaknesses that he kept hidden at times even from himself. The boy he was now was oddly fragile compared to the man that Sho had so often clashed with and though he didn't precisely pity him Sho did feel a certain responsibility for his life.

After all, if he somehow failed...

The unit reached out through them and connected with the other guyver unit and for a moment Sho could only cling precariously to the railing as his vision doubled and expanded.

:interesting...:

They were tapped into Makishima's guyver armor, scanning outward and seeing with its sensor array. He could sense Shizu in the next room as readily as he could sense Murikami packing the last of his things in the apartment. Tentatively grasping his bearings he focused on the other unit. The armor was silent, felt hollowed out by comparison to his own... still connecting to it he could maneuver the sensors and...

And something was wrong. The guyver could scan close to a mile square if one strained and he knew from the location of the cabin that there should be no more than two humanoids besides Makishima in such a close proximity.

Which boded very badly for the ten he could sense just at the edge of the guyver's scanner range, approaching with a slow deliberation he didn't like at all.

"You sick kid?" Murikami's voice snapped him back into himself, the fragile telepathic link with the other unit snapping abruptly. For a moment he swayed, struggling to regain his bearings.

"Ugh... not exactly." Sho pried his hands from the railing. Where he had clung the metal was warped slightly, bent against the force of his grip. He stared at the damaged steel blindly for a moment. It was a side effect of his strange bonding he wasn't prepared to look at too closely just then.

"Shall we move on then?" Murikami urged, clearly studying the rail with him. The man didn't ask though, and that was a small favor in itself.

"Yeah," Sho turned away from the scene, turning to meet the steady gaze of the protolord. "We're going to need to make a quick stop on the way though."

* * *

**Author's End Note:** Hmm, I suppose that qualifies as a new guyver ability? I've been thinking a lot of how to power up Sho without well... overpowering Sho. Because the world does not need any more super-guyvers. Still, I've written his story in a way that there's got to be something. I think I've finally sorted it out, though you'll all have to wait a few chapters to find out what it is.

**Next Time: **Blood and guts. Made extra spicy and topped with peanut sauce!


	12. Chapter 9

**Author's Notes: **This chapter kind of ran away with me. I had originally planned the chapter break after two additional scenes, which turned into three additional scenes that all wound up longer than intended. So in the interest of keeping a sort of consistent chapter length and also actually getting something posted I decided to chop it in half.

**Summary: **Conspiracy theorys and lots of screaming.

**Chapter 9 – A Council of Ten**

* * *

Shin Rubeo Amniculus stood on the one open platform of the Arizona base, tracking the arriving helicopter with his eyes as the massive black bird approached. It had been over a century since the last time his brethern had convened in such a manner and something about the meeting stirred his nerves. They were close, so very close until the day of reconning, and for this... incident to have occurred so near that long planned day... It seemed far too convenient for the timing to be a coincidence. 

Uncertainty was not something that one such as himself was accustomed too. He had lived too long to be surprised by life anymore. For all the world changed around him, he found the people that were in it changed very little. New faces, new names and new rulers, but the people themselves still reacted in the same ways they always had to the same stimuli.

Truly new occurances happened very infrequently for Shin these days, but something in the air told him that change of a short he had not experienced in a very long time was coming. The world was about to alter itself drastically, but whether it was to change in the ways he had long expected or in some other he could not say.

A rush of air pushed down at him as the helicopter came in to land on the waiting platform at last. He stood firm and let it buffet his clothing, an unmoving statue in the artificial gale.

All around troops of foot soldiers stood in neat ordered lines as they waited to greet the incoming traveler. Already they had received seven others. This was to be the last, and the only one that Shin had felt a need to come and meet personally.

The door slid open as the spinning blades of the black machine slowed and a tall man in an expensive suit stepped out, his blonde hair slicked neatly back from his face.

In all the years Shin had known him, Fredrich von Purgstall had changed very little. Always the nobleman, he felt an unusual sense of responsibility for all those beneath him. Shin admired him his values, shared some of them, and found the man's company to be a steady presence in the many storms they had already weathered.

"It has been too long, my friend." Fredrich smiled warmly in greeting, grasping Shin's outstreatched arm in firm grip that the older Zoalord found he had missed.

It was a good thing, he believed, to be around one who was so strong and steady in their beliefs. The former count had never wavered in his opinions on the value of life and it was sometimes good to be reminded of why and for whom they did all that they had.

"That it has." He agreed, turning to fall into step alongside the other man as they entered the base.

The hollowed stone swallowed then into its cold windowless gut and inwardly he wondered if he had not been too long within this place. The outside world faded from memory in the years he had governed here, and his own insular existence sometimes seemed to eclipse all that was outside of the stone walls. It would be nice, if he could manage it, to spend some time outside of the base again before the world remoulded itself to their vision.

"The world is about to change on us once more it seems." Fredrich observed as they reached the priority elevators, his words an echo to Shin's thoughts. "I understand there is to be more said at this convention than merely the loss of a certain resource?"

"That is my impression as well." Shin agreed. "Dr. Barcus impressed on me that there may be a cause for concern recarding the young commander." He slid his key card into the elevator's lock, activating the underground access.

"I never liked him." Fredrich told him, the younger zoalord's face taking on a mild look of distaste. "Ruthless bastard, really." Inwardly, Shin found himself smiling fondly at the almost youthful look on the other man's face.

"He was not always so," He reminded his friend.

Shin could recall meeting the young commander some time ago. He had understood at the time Barcus' choice in the man. A younger Guyot had been ambitious and charismatic, but not so power-driven as he had later become. Having watched as all his fellows became like himself, Shin felt he had a unique perspective on the transformation that was perhaps only shared by Barcus himself. The power of a zoalord changed them all really.

"Perhaps." Fredrich sounded skeptical and Shin smothered a small amused smile. The former count had changed as well after the processing, though Shin suspected he did not really see it in such a way. The man he had been before becoming one of them had not been nearly as concerned about the rest of the world. Though it might have been too much to say Fredrich had been spoiled, he had certainly had a certain conceit to him in his youth.

"Well, whatever the case... now is not an ideal time for the boy to be staging some sort of 'coup." Shin pointed out, trying to steer his friend away from personal opinion.

"Yes, It is supremely bad timing." The younger man agreed, frowning up at the lighted floor numbers that indicated they were passing the third basement level now. "You think there is something more to this than just the Commander's arrogance?"

"Perhaps." It was a dangerous thing to speculate before they had all the information on the situation, but it did not stop Shin from worrying.

The elevator doors pinged as the lift finally slowed to a stop at its final destination, the lowest level of the Arizona base, Sub-basement five. Shin waved for Fredrich to precede him, and the two council members stepped out into an empty hallway. There were no soldiers this far into the base, and indeed there were only three rooms in the whole of the vast area, a monitoring center, the council's formal meeting room and the massive cavern that hosted one of the most prized relics of Chronos, the ancient Advent ship 'Uranus'.

Shin paused at the great doors to the council chambers and reached out with his senses to the great ship. It was as it had always been, a thrumming hollow in his mind. Uranus had given them a vast wealth of knowledge over the years, but as always when he was so near the ancient ship, Shin had to wonder how many secrets the massive beast still kept.

* * *

"This is taking too long." Masaki glanced sidelong at his young passenger as they sped out of town and onto the back roads that wound their way leisurely towards Mount Minakami. Sho had been growing steadily more uneasy as they drove and he was now all but vibrating with tension in the passenger seat. 

"If you've got some faster way to get us out there, by all means let me know." Masaki suggested dryly. He was already speeding well over the legal limits. Much faster and we wasn't sure he trusted the tires on the RX-7 to stay attached to the road. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the boy freeze, head tilting slightly to one side as if listening to something he couldn't hear.

"Pull over." Sho ordered abruptly, already scrambling for the door.

"Shit." He slammed on the brakes and swerved off the road moments before the kid jumped out of the car. "What the fuck are you thinking?" He yelled after Sho, who took a few steps away before summoning the blue armor that Masaki remembered from the week before.

For a minute Masaki could just sort of gawk in surprise. It was one thing to know this boy had the guyver armor and another thing entirely to see it donned. Nervously he chanced a glance around them to see if the transformation had been spotted by any civilians but the old road was deserted for the time being.

"Get out, we're flying the rest of the way." The guyver ordered, and the voice that it spoke with sounded almost nothing like that of the brat he had spent most of the morning arguing with.

"Excuse me?" He climbed out of the car, more from confusion than any desire to obey.

"I said," Very abruptly the small armored form was beside him, one pale arm wrapping firmly around his waist. "We're flying the rest of the way."

"Fuck!" He grabbed desperately at the guyver as the ground was very suddenly not under his feet.

* * *

Shizu held her breath as she crouched in the back of the small garage, praying that somehow the two things that were tearing apart her home would miss sensing her there. 

Agito was gone, having led the bulk of the monsters away from the cabin, and she wasn't sure where her grandfather was. She could only pray he was safe... that both of them were. Agito had told her of Chronos and its biologically engineered soldiers before, but like all things in life – it was one thing to know a thing and another to understand it. And having seen these 'zoaniods' finally, she found she had not really understood what they were at all before.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are..." The mutated voice of one of her persuers sang from nearby. She didn't dare risk peering out from her hiding place to check where precisely the monster was. "Damn bitch. When I get ahold of her..."

"When you get ahold of her nothing." Came a second gruesome tone, this one from distinctly closer. She stiffened at the proximity and tried to stamp down on the panic that rose in her chest. She did not want to die here! "That damn kid will probably want her back. You heard the orders – capture the guyver or bring back something that can be used to provoke him. She's a pretty little thing. I'm sure he'd worry if she went missing."

The storage freezer next to her was suddenly in the air as the speaking creature lifted it to check for a hiding spot. For a moment she could only stare at the disgusting thing in shock. It glanced back and forth once, spotted her and shoved the crate of supplies she was tucked behind aside with a causal swat of one great claw.

Unarmed and unable to think of anything else to do at that point she closed her eyes and screamed.

"Fucking bitch!" There was a rush of air on her face and then a dull thud, as if something had fallen.

"Goddamn it, Sho!" The voice that spoke now was distinctly human, male and angry. Confused she chanced opening her eyes to see what had become of her attacker.

Just to her right stood an fairly normal looking man, possibly in his early thirties with long hair, dark sunglasses and a very big gun. He looked extremely unhappy to be there.

"See, now that was timing." Directly before her stood a familiar pale blue armored form, one arm raised, with a strange vibrating blade extended from its elbow. On the ground behind him was the monster that had been attacking her, cleaved neatly in two and steaming as it seemed to begin to dissolve.

"I know you...!" She began, trying to regain her wits now that at least one threat was passed

"Hello again!" The blue figure greeted with a cheeky wave, the strange blade retreating with a metallic shing into his arm. "Where did Makishima get off to?"

"Agito!" She was on her feet in a second at the mention of him. Scrambling towards the familiar figure. "You have to help him!"

"Yeah, well, that was kind of why we were here..." The small form began, and she noticed the orbs on either side of its head were rotating back and forth as if scanning for something.

"Thanks so much for letting me know that." The man with the gun interjected. "Who the fuck is Makishima and why the hell did you have to..." He trailed off waving a hand in a vaguelly helpless way towards the treeline surrounding the cabin. "... whatever the hell that was, to get us here?"

"Who are you?" Shizu wondered, trying to decide what to make of the stranger.

"Masaki Murikami, meet Shizu Onuma." The armored figure introduced.

"Nice to meet you." She greeted automatically, manners not quite abandoning her in spite of the situation.

"Agito left in that direction." She told the... what? Guyver? That was what Agito had said he was anyway... gesturing towards the far side of the clearing that housed their cabin. "We should hurry."

"Yeah, I think I've got a lock on him." The blue guyver agreed, both head orbs swiveling forward in the direction she'd pointed. "He's not far, lets get moving... Masaki?" He turned back to the man, who raised both hands in defense and backed up a few paces.

"No way in hell am I letting you carry me again." The man protested.

"Who offered?" The guyver wondered wrly. "I was going to carry the pretty girl. You can like..." He lifted one hand and scissored the fingers in a sort of running mime. "...trot along after us. We're going that way," He pointed the direction Shizu had motioned earlier. "About two clicks."

The blue guyver offered her an arm, and Shizu was quick to grab on to him. She wasn't sure just how fast he could get them to Agito, but it was almost surely faster than she could get there on her own and right then - getting to him quickly was all that mattered.

"Wait! Who the hell is this Makishima? What the hell is going on?" The man... Murikami, yelled as the ground rapidly dropped away from them.

"Sho?!"

Shizu crammed her eyes closed against the sudden rush of air and grasped tightly onto the guyver holding her.

"Goddamn it!" The man's angry yell faded away as they sped away, the air whistling in her ears.

* * *

Doctor Hamilcal Barcus settled himself into his remote chair, taking a moment to compose himself before he activated the live feed that would connect him to the council room where the rest of the ruling body of Chronos had convened. 

It was a rare thing to summon the entirety of the council on any matter, but their long anticipated day approached and there was no time to deal with problems such as the missing unit-gs or Guyot more subtly. Aptom had contacted him that morning to infom him that he had the rebellious Zoalord in custody and that they were on their way back to the mountain. When the man arrived Barcus would have to find a way to deal with the commander.

There was no telling how deep the other zoalord's rebellion went, how many scientists or resources were in his grasp. It would take time he did not nessecarily have to ferret out the depth of the man's decpetions.

And then there were the guyvers. Risker was still missing, presumed either dead or AWOL, Makishima's whereabouts were unknown as well, though Hamilcal expected the boy would not be so hard to locate with sufficient resources. And then there was the third unit. Panadyne had informed him that it had been activated and sighted at the Commander's ill-fated attempt to capture Makishima, but there were still no clues as to the host's identity.

Without knowning that, it was hard to speculate on what kind of a threat the third unit might become. For the time being it was an unknown quantity, one of Hamilcal's least favorite kind of threats.

Sighing he tried to calm himself for the discussion he was about to have and activated his remote consol. The soldier in charge the Relic's Point communcation system appeared on the screen.

"I am ready to be connected with Arizona." He informed the man.

"Yes, sir." The soldier's face faded into static and Hamical Barcus steeled himself to face his peers with ill news.


	13. Chapter 10

**Author's Notes: **See why I cut nine in half? It went and got obnoxiously long on me... Anyway, good old fashion blood and guts and DOOM in here. I'm hoping my ability to write fight scenes is improving, because seriously – guyver fic... lots of those.

**Summary: **Nothing is indestructible.

**Chapter 10 – Death of Man**

* * *

"As you can see, the data we have been able to collect has been inconclusive at best." Dr Hamical Barcus gestured to the holographic feed that was currently cycling through a display of the three activated guyver units and what information they had regarding each of them. The data feed was distressingly small.

"From what we can tell from the research done on Inspector Risker's transformation as well as observations made from recordings and live observations of the other two in battle, the active units are a power not to be taken lightly. Our current estimations suggest they are capable of energy outputs at least equivalent to those of our most evolved Hyper Zoaniods." Barcus brought up a grainy display of the third guyver's final attack at Makishima's school. "The weapon used here destroyed a full contingent of zoaniods and caused structural damage across most of the surrounding block."

"I would be interested to hear more of precisely how the units were lost to Chronos to begin with." Kurumegnik interrupted.

Barcus considered his fellow Zoalord cautiously. He sincerely hoped that the man's increasingly blatant ambition did not mean that Reichman Guyot was not the only council member with which he needed to be concerned.

"That information," He began slowly. "Is of great concern to us as well. It is clear to us that some sort of internal sabotage was involved, most likely originating with the young Mr. Makishima."

"He's been confirmed as the host of the dark unit, is that correct?" Shin prompted.

Barcus nodded and brought up a display of the second unit to be activated. The dark guyver glared balefully out at the assembled council.

"Yes, we were able to confirm this after Risker's attack on the home of Genzo Makishima, the head of the Japan branch. Agito Makishima is his adopted son." He brought up the younger Makishima's internal data file. "The Elder Makishima identified his son from battle footage taken by their security cameras and we were later able to confirm the ID when he was forced to activate the guyver by an attack orchestrated by our Commander Guyot."

"My... the state of family loyalty these days." Kurumegnik scoffed. Barcus glared down at him warningly, a task made somewhat more challenging across a holographic projection.

"We will, of course, be dealing with the elder Makishima as well." He stared down the younger zoalord as he spoke, putting the threat in his voice that was harder to convey visually. "But I do not feel that is something that this council needs to concern itself with at this time."

"As you say, doctor." Kurumegnik agreed, backing down though his tone implied he was not convinced.

"Perhaps we should be concerning ourselves with our... larger internal issues before attempting to micro-manage the Japan branch." Rienzi cut in, effectively preventing any further attempts by Kurumegnik to side-track the council.

"Guyot, you mean?" Wondered Purg'stall, leaning forward almost eagerly. There was an agitated outbreak of muttering at his words and Barcus waiting a moment for the council to settle again before responding.

"As many of you seem to already know," Barcus began, casting a searching glance about the table, "The cause for the convention of this council is not solely to inform all of you about the status of the unit-gs. Though it is thanks in part to this... incident that the issue has come to my attention."

Barcus paused to gather his thoughts. He was not sure how the reigning council of Chronos would react to Guyot's rebellion and that uncertainty bothered him. It had been far too long since they had gathered together like this, far too much time for each man to settle into their own positions of command. There had not been an enforced sort of accountability these past years and suddenly, staring down at his handpicked leaders he had a moment to regret the error.

"It would appear that Commander Reichman Guyot is planning to stage some form of coup in the near future." He told them finally.

"He can't possibly have the resources!" Kurumegnik protested immediately. Barcus glared at him viciously, not about to allow any further attempts at discrediting him from the man, and the zoalord fell back into his seat, suitably cowed for once.

"You underestimate him. He's been overseeing most of Japan and parts of Asia effectively uncontested since he was processed." Barcus glanced over at Shin. The man looked as troubled as he felt. They had been unwise in assigning as much responsibility to the newest Zoalord as they had, but with Lord Alkanphel absent, resources had been strained. "I would not want to guess at how many supporters he has in these areas."

There was another round of murmuring at this proclamation and Barcus leaned back in his chair to observe his zoalords as they took in this bit of information.

"What would you have us do, Doctor?" Rienzi wondered finally.

"Its clear that he must be sanctioned for his actions." Barcus began. "It is not so often that we have one of our own oppose the cause in such a way..."

"Its never we've had a zoalord oppose the cause." Khan corrected him.

"That being the case," Barcus agreed, eying Khan darkly. "I would seek the breadth of council's wisdom and strength in dealing with this matter. I will need all of your support in order to... contain this situation."

"And so you shall have it." Shin agreed. Barcus nodded gratefully at the man as the remainder of the council murmured their agreement.

"I'm having the Commander returned to Relic's Point as we speak." Barcus informed them. "Your presence here in a few days time would be very welcome."

"What of lord Alkanphel?" Wondered Kurumegnik.

"I would not feel that this is something we need to concern him with just yet." Barcus returned, though the mention of the supreme commander did set of a twinge of concern from him. It had been far too long since the head of Chronos had walked among them, and Barcus had no doubt that it was in part due to the lack of his overpowering presence that such dissonance had come to be among the council. Without Alkanphel to guide them, it was sometimes hard for the younger Zoalords to keep focused on their larger goals and purpose. "I could of course, disturb him with this, Kurumegnik... if perhaps you feel we are not up for the task?"

"No need for that." Kurumegnik backed down again. Always these days the man picked at him, never outright opposition, but something smaller and more threatening. It would be a cold day in Hell when Barcus allowed the younger man to gain ground on him though. "I was only inquiring as to if he had passed on any new instructions of late."

"No." Barcus said simply.

"This is settled then." Shin cut in. "We will look forward to seeing you soon in person, Dr. Barcus."

He nodded to the elder zoalord thankfully. Shin was one of the few zoalords that had been around long enough for Alkanphel to have intervened directly in his choosing, and one of the few members of the council that Barcus felt he could trust whole-heartedly. Shin _believed_ in their cause, and the man stood as a rock in the sometimes unsteady seas that rocked the ruling class of Chronos these days.

"Until then." Barcus offered one last sweeping glance across the collected members of the council before cutting the feed.

He wondered tiredly as he disconnected from the holo generator if perhaps he should contact Alkanphel after all, but no... he'd done just fine on his own for the last century, he could manage a few months more.

Still, Kurumegnik's blatant defiance was growing worrisome. If he chose to rebel as Guyot had it would strike a devastating blow to their cause at a time when any problems would be magnified a hundred fold.

"Sir?" One of the small com panels to his right lit up with the face of an anonymous soldier. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but one of the scouts that you sent out after the search party Guyot ordered has reported in – I think you're going to want to see this."

* * *

Agito ducked under the wild swing from one of the Ramotiths attacking him, weaving back and then immediately jerking forward again to avoid the claws of another of the strength types. Blood oozed sluggishly down his torso from where one of the two hyper zoaniods had scored a debilitating hit, effectively disabling his most powerful weapon and leaving him with no choice but to try and pick off his attackers one at a time.

He'd managed to slowly lead them away from the cabin and hopefully Shizu, but he was having less luck getting clear of the mob of zoaniods long enough to make lethal blows. He'd whittled them down to a bare dozen not counting the hypers that seemed to be content for the moment to stand to the sidelines and take the occasional potshot.

He felt saying the situation was not good was something of an understatement and though he'd tried a mental call for help to Guyver 3 he'd not gotten anything like a response yet.

He jerked out of the way of another attack, this time a Gregole, and somehow managed to take a hand with his retreat. Dark viscous blood coated the ground beneath him, making for unsteady footing and he stumbled, only barely catching himself with his gravity controller before he could fall unceremoniously onto the talons of his attackers.

There was a sound that broke the air as he re-steadied himself that would have been like a scream if it had been in the normal audible range for a human. Shrill and piercing it vibrated the air around it as it rushed forward and Agito instinctively jerked out of the path of the strange attack. Just to his side where he'd dodged the head of a Ramotiths exploded in a shower of blood and brain mass, tiny fragments of skull shooting outward as the zoaniod's head vibrated violently apart.

Agito scrambled to get a lock on the newcomer, scanners searching rapidly through the foliage in the area from which the attack seemed to have come. He jerked back from another attack, this one from behind, as a small flurry of laser shots flew past, searing through the bodies of more than one of the remaining zoaniods.

The pack scattered and Agito turned his head upward as his sensors detected movement above. Guyver 3 drifted down to land beside him.

"Took you long enough!" He gritted out, not at all sure if he was more annoyed at being shot at than pleased to have help finally.

"I wasn't exactly close by," The pale guyver returned, something between amusement and annoyance in his voice. "I can't exactly teleport directly to your location every time you manage to get yourself in some sort of trouble you know."

Around the two of them, the zoaniods were regrouping. At the fringes of the group of attackers Agito could see the two hyper zoaniods moving in now as well.

:Watch those two: He warned the other guyver mentally.

:Hmm... Thancrus and Gaster... nasty combination, those two: Guyver 3 mused.

Agito didn't have time to wonder just how the pale guyver knew about the hyper zoaniods. The surprise that had scattered his attackers with the arrival of the other guyver was fading quickly and the remaining zoaniods were once more on the offensive.

:You worry about holding off this group: Guyver three ordered as the onslaught began again.

:I'll deal with they hypers:

* * *

Masaki swore, under his breath as he ran after Sho and that girl he'd taken off with. This was not exactly how he'd planned his afternoon to go. Get the brat to the rendezvous point, contact Odagiri and get the two of them smuggled into the mountain by nightfall – that had been the plan.

Like all his attempts at planning lately it seemed well and truly shot now though. Instead he was in the middle of a damn forest he didn't know his way around, chasing that aggravating brat who seemed to be on some insane quest to find someone with the last name of Makishima.

His life really fucking sucked sometimes.

Whoever it was they were here to help had better be really fucking important, he decided, grabbing for his gun as he sensed a contingent of zoaniods ahead.

Around him the tree cover broke and he skidded to a halt in the small clearing the forest opened into and stared.

There were an easy dozen zoaniods surrounding two... TWO guyvers, one of which he knew was Sho, the other of which he could only assume was this Makishima person. The second guyver was taller than Sho's own pale armored form, standing in stark contrast to the smaller unit, its dark armor a shade of purple that was very nearly black. Its head armor was wreathed in a series of sharp spikes and it had twin rather than single blades sprouting from its arms.

It was a form Masaki realized he recognized from the school. The dark guyver had been the one initially attacked there, and though he hadn't spotted the identity of its host, it had not fared as well as Sho then.

It... he? Looked in no better shape now, with a several unpleasant looking gouges, and a large oozing wound that marred the armor of his chest.

"Mr. Murikami!" He turned to find the girl from before, looking frustrated and worried, perched a bit precariously in the branches of one of the trees that ringed the clearing.

"What's going on?" He demanded, trying to figure out how the hell she had managed to get up there.

"Um... could you help me down first?" She flushed a little, darting quick glances between him and the battle. With a sigh he holstered his gun and considered her position.

"It might be best you jump." He suggested. "I'll catch you." She hesitated for just a moment, before a look of determination came over her and she dropped out of the tree. Masaki grabbed her neatly and set her back on her feet. She looked a little windblown and flustered, but none the worse for wear considering she'd just been rocketed across the countryside by a wayward guyver.

"Thank you." She turned her attention to where the guyvers were still surrounded. Somehow in the intervening minutes they had managed to take out three of their attackers, but it looked to Masaki that the dark guyver was noticeably slowing.

"Master Agito's been at this too long." The girl told him, as if confirming his thoughts. "He led most of them away from the house when the attack began."

She flinched slightly, but refused to avert her eyes as the dark guyver neatly cleaved the head off a large furred zoaniod he knew to be a Ramotith's model.

"That was nearly an hour ago."

Murikami frowned and reached again for his gun, trying to see if there were anything he could take out without drawing too much attention to himself or the girl. Sho's fighting tactics seemed odd, he appeared to be focusing on two zoaniods in particular, of model types Masaki was not immediately familiar with, while mostly ignoring the handful of remaining strength types that persisted in rushing the two guyvers from all sides.

His fellow guyver was clearly trying to bring up the slack against the mob, but didn't seem to be faring terribly well. The huge gray-green mass of a Gregole moved unreasonably fast to block their view of the guyvers and Masaki took swift aim.

He winced slightly at the kick back and the Gregole shrieked in pain and anger as its left arm detached in a messy explosion at the shoulder. It turned, bloodshot eyes hunting through the foliage for his new attacker.

Masaki got off two more rounds as the monster charged, its bulk crashing gracelessly into the soil a dozen yards away from him.

Fumbling in his jacket he emptied the spent rounds and reloaded, taking aim again at the shrinking mass of zoaniods surrounding the dark guyver. The gun barked angrily three times and a Ramotiths fell away from the battle, its skull now in so many pieces.

"Look out!!" Sho's fervent yell broke Masaki's concentration and he turned to see one of the two unknown zoaniods charging for the now unprotected girl. He had almost forgotten her in his rush to fire, but it seemed the pale guyver had not and the small form scrambled toward her, dodging those zoaniods still between him and the girl.

The hyper-zoanoid raised one bladed arm. The girl screamed. The sword swung downward.

The guyver managed to skid between the two moments before the blow connected, stopping the blade between his hands. The force of the blow had continued on and the zoaniod's sword had managed to penetrate the guyver's shoulder, and though Sho now held the blade in an iron grasp, blood welled out of the deep wound, slowly dripping down to coat the right half of his torso.

For a moment the two seemed to be at a stalemate, and Masaki scrambled to reload his gun again, cursing under his breath at his own distraction.

"Gyuk!" Sho's gasp was garbled and Masaki looked up from his frantic work in time to see the zoaniod's second blade penetrate out the back side of the guyver's skull in a spray of blood, the sword having slipped into Sho's occupied guard to penetrate through the vulnerable area under his chin.

The pale guyver's hands dropped sluggishly away as he twitched, dangling for just a moment on the humming sword. Small strangled noises puffed from his breather vents.

The zoaniod laughed madly, stepping back and away as it ripped the embedded blade toward itself. The sword split the guyver's head, tearing out the left side of the unit's face.

Distantly Masaki could hear Shizu screaming again, but his gaze remained locked on the pale guyver as it dropped away from the zoaniod, its destroyed head obscured partially by a mess of blood and gray matter.

* * *

Silence.

Agito hadn't even been aware of the noise until it was gone, but now the silence rattled him and he stumbled back away from his attackers in shock.

Around him the remaining zoaniods seemed to pause, all eyes shifting to where Thancrus and Guyver 3 remained locked together. He could only stare numbly at the scene, a cold chill arching down his spine.

There was a not small part of him that had begun to see the pale guyver as almost invulnerable.

Whoever the host was, they clearly knew leagues more about the units and how best to utilize them. In battle, the smaller fighter had proven himself competent, superior even by Agito's own standards. And there was something else... a soft of feeling he got from the other guyver, a sense of something more... something powerful.

But as the other unit had shown him so clearly the first time they had met, the unit-gs were not in and of themselves invincible.

Thancrus moved, and the pale guyver dropped to its feet, blood and tissue flying away from its head to spatter across the cackling hyper zoaniod.

From his vantage point the damage to the other guyver's face was clearly visible and in spite of all he had seen in his years with Chronos, Agito found his stomach churning at the sight. The sword had torn through the guyver's head at an angle, tearing out the left half of the skull.

Through the gaping armor he could see clearly the mutilated brain, shredded tissue clinging limply in places. Blood welled in steady pulses, flowing out of the hollowed head and bubbling sluggishly from the remaining breath vent.

For one insane moment the pale guyver stood in spite of the damage, weaving unsteadily, before finally swaying forward and collapsing to the ground.

Dimly, Agito registered the sound of Shizu screaming, and he realized at last that the silence echoing in his mind was not an absence of sound, but an absence of thought. The constant buzz that seemed to haunt him when the other guyver was near had fallen silent.

Guyver 3 was dead.

* * *

**THE END.**

j/k ;)

**Author's End Note: **I'm actually reposting this chapter entirely to edit this AN – I've had some people bugging me for updates (not always in a manner that makes me want to update) and asking what happened to that promised next chapter.

I posted a little bit of it on my user page – which BTW is where any notes about what I'm working on are posted between chapters – but here's the short of it. My laptop has suffered a critical meltdown and taken most of chapter 11 with it. Since I wrote most of it over break and coming back I was immediately assaulted with other issues I hadn't backed up the majority of the chapter.

Re-writing something I was already happy with is really frustrating and I've been taking an extended break from the fic to get my head wrapped back around that chunk of story. I don't know when the next chapter will be up and please don't ask me – I'm burned out enough over this as it is.

**Next Time: **Zombies luv brains... Mmm... brains...


	14. Chapter 11

**Author's Notes: **

**What happened to my updates?**

I had originally planned for this to be up at the end of the year. Then the laptop went squirrelly and I lost part of the chapter. Rewriting is my kryptonite (I am totally OK with striking out whole pages... but asking me to redo text I was happy with makes me crazy. Its like once I've written something its out of my brain never to be seen again) so its taken me awhile to reorient and go back over stuff I'd already covered.

I'm not sure if the finished chapter is better or worse for the double time, but at least its done. Future updates are back to being scattered all over the place and dependent on my finding time and inspiration to work on this. I'm stubbornly keeping at it though, even if its at a dreadfully slow pace, so no worries of reckless abandonment need be had.

**Story stuff:**

I've tried to stay away from calling the guyver's "Guyver 1", "Guyver 2" etc. too often in this fic, largely because they originally picked up their designations based on who activated their unit first – and since I changed that order here their titles and the guyvers themselves don't match up to canon.

I probably should have made this note sooner, but in case it comes up again:

Risker would now be Guyver 1, Agito Guyver 2 and Sho Guyver 3. Hence – Guyver 3 being dead.

**Summary: **Self-defense mode just isn't what it used to be...

**Chapter 11 – Walking Dead**

* * *

Thancrus grinned down at his fallen adversary. The whole of Chronos was in awe of these creatures, but his team was the best of the best and it was no surprise to him that he had been able to fell the armored man with a single blow. It would be a cold day in hell when anyone or anything could hope to stand up so easily to one of the hyper zoaniod five.

Nearby he could see Makishima now being overwhelmed by the remaining brute force attackers. Crude zoaforms to be sure, but in large platoons they could still overwhelm most any resistance. Without the pale guyver to run interference they seemed to be doing just that.

He turned back to the fallen unit, wondering if he should send Gaster or one of the Ramotith to Relic's point for a transportation unit for the body. Dead or not, weak or not, he had heard enough rumblings about the guyvers to know that Chronos would want to study the carcass.

He kicked at the lifeless form absently. It had stopped bleeding, though the grass around it was now stained an appealing shade of red.

Best to send one of the Ramotith ahead for pick-up he decided finally, and motioned for Gaster to pull out one of the remaining zoaniods for recon back to the mountain.

Something grabbed his ankle and he looked down, startled, to find a blood stained hand wrapped tightly about his leg. For a moment he failed to process the fallen body grabbing hold of him – the next he was on the ground, pulled off his feet by the dead guyver that was now rising to stand.

It made no sense. The guyver's head was destroyed and staring up at it, he could still see the fragmented edges of skull, brain tissue hanging loose from the edges in places.

There was no way this thing should be alive.

The odd metal sphere in what was left of its forehead pulsed unsteadily with an eerie blue light and Thancrus had a moment to wonder just what they did not know about the guyver yet before he died.

* * *

Masaki approached the girl slowly, wrapping his arms around her and placing a firm hand over her mouth to prevent any further screams. With Sho down their odds of victory had dropped dramatically and through the faint sense of panic that was starting to set in he was already calculating possible ways to retreat. The last thing they needed was for her to scream again and bring the zoaniods attention back to them.

Pulling Shizu with him, he backed slowly into the relative cover of the tree line. She stumbled as they moved, her entire body shaking with the shock of what they had just witnessed.

At the far side of the clearing he could see the pack of zoaniods once more move to swarm the dark guyver. There were too many of them for Masaki to have a chance at controlling them with any sort of confidence, and if he had to make a run for it with the girl he wanted to still have the energy to transform if and when they were followed.

Much though he hated to loose both of the units, they were going to have to leave the dark guyver behind. Perhaps later, when the bodies were at Relic's Point they could retrieve enough genetic material to make some effort of cloning, but right then they were outnumbered and out gunned and Masaki sensed that if he wanted to see another day of his rapidly shrinking lifetime then it was time to leave.

In his arms, he felt the girl abruptly freeze, the hand still covering her mouth muffling a gasp. He glanced down at her, and then out at the battlefield, searching for what had her spooked now.

Only moments ago the pale guyver had lay dead at the feet of the hyper zoaniod. Now he watched as the blade-handed hyper exploded in a shower of blood. One of its severed hand swords flew towards them, embedding itself in a nearby tree and Masaki could not stop himself from flinching away from the bleeding limb.

The guyver did not turn to face them, though even from their poor vantage, Masaki could still make out that its head was almost half missing.

With an ominous sound like metal on metal the guyver extended both of its arm swords, tensing as it turned towards the remaining zoaniods who had not yet seemed to notice what had become of Thancrus.

In the distance, the dark guyver stumbled, the taloned hand of one of the zoaniods wrapping in a strangle hold about his neck. The pale guyver shifted minutely, and then it moved... faster than Masaki would have thought possible. He struggled to keep up with the attack, as in a flurry of humming swords and flying limbs the three zoaniods nearest to the dark guyver were very suddenly in several pieces.

Only two of the creatures remained standing now and they were backing away from the disturbing sight of the walking carcass that had so easily dispatched a hyper zoaniod and three of their counterparts. The air vibrated all the way back to Masaki and Shizu as the pale guyver let loose with some kind of sonic attack, the sound harmonized by the pained shrieks of the zoaniods as their bodies were shredded mercilessly apart by the sound waves.

The remaining head orb of the guyver swiveled and it raised one arm, the strange orb at its waist pulsing as a series of hollow spheres formed and rocketed out of its cupped palm towards where Masaki could just make out the retreating form of the remaining hyper zoaniod. It shrieked in pain as one of the hollow cannonballs punched through its shoulder, exploding the mass of liquid explosives within.

The violence of the explosion rocked the ground, and Shizu huddled against him as the only stable object in the rumbling chaos, fighting hard to keep her footing.

When the debris cleared, he looked up towards the guyvers once more. The dark guyver was seated on the ground, blood bubbling unsteadily from its breather vents and dripping sluggishly from a series of nearly invisible wounds in his neck. Beside him the pale guyver stood unmoving, its own devastating injuries had stopped bleeding now, and though it seemed impossible Masaki would swear that the damage to the monster's skull seemed less than it had moments before.

"Agito..." Shizu pulled away from him slowly, her eyes focusing on the dark guyver. Unsteadily she took a step towards the two.

The sensor orb on the pale guyver's head swiveled abruptly towards them at her movement.

* * *

Hamical Barcas watched the slightly grainy feed coming in from one of his scouts, his face impassive.

On the monitor before him the unknown guyver faced off against Thancrus, one of the members of his own Elite team of hyper zoaniods. It would have been a simple thing to reach out with his mind and contact the blade-handed zoaniod, to demand information, but he held back – his mind debating what the presence of two members of his best team meant.

Without more information on Guyot's contacts he couldn't know for sure if Thancrus and Gaster were present because they had betrayed him or because another of his generals had sided with the commander. And while he could very easily break into either of their minds and tear out the answer, doing so could tip his hand to the youngest Zoalord and would almost certainly cost him the life of the zoaniod he violated.

There would be time yet to determine their loyalties. Now.. now was instead an opportunity to see how some of his finest creations held their own against a Guyver unit.

Thancrus turned, his attention focusing on something that was outside of the limited range of the feed and Barcus reached out with his mind to request the scout to turn the camera. The view tilted and he could make out two humanoid forms, one partially obscured by the foliage that he guessed to be male.. the other a girl of maybe seventeen.

The hyper zoaniod charged the female, sword raised in attack and Barcus wondered for a moment just what the hyper zoaniod hoped to accomplish by killing a civilian. Then the pale guyver was abruptly there, having moved too quickly for the camera to catch more than a blur and Barcus found a small ironic smile on his lips at the foolish defense of the girl.

It was more than obvious to him that the pale guyver had a strong advantage over the contingent of zoaniods that Guyot had sent out. But the small armored form had dropped most of it to protect the girl. That was a weakness that was well worth noting.

He watched as Thancrus pushed his advantage, his free arm swinging up into the guyver's guard. For a moment Barcus couldn't tell from the camera vantage if the strike had connected, but as the hyper zoaniod stepped back and away the damage became clearly visible.

The doctor leaned back in his chair thoughtfully, watching as the nearly decapitated guyver swayed and then collapsed. It would be hard to identify the host now, with half its face missing, but with enough tissue he was sure they could get a reliable DNA sample. Assuming the host was associated with Chronos, something that seemed likely, they should be able to match it within the internal database.

He was reaching for the comm button to summon a team to send out for cryogenic retrieval when movement on the screen drew his attention back to the still live video feed.

Thancrus was down and the pale guyver was up.

Its animate carcass held out a negligent arm towards the fallen zoaniod and the once elite hyper was suddenly in pieces. The air seemed to shimmer slightly in the aftermath and Barcus thought he recognized the pressure cannon attack.

Then the dead guyver was moving again and the remaining zoaniods fell quickly, the camera showing flying blood and limbs for a minute at most before it was over. A spectacular explosion threw a retreating Gaster into the trees, though Barcus sensed that the other hyper zoaniod was not yet dead.

For a moment everything was still, then the pale guyver turned and for a moment, the doctor was possessed of the unsettling sensation that it was looking directly at him, its remaining eye glaring as if in silent threat.

It raised a hand and the feed fell to static.

He did not need to reach out to the scout to know it was dead.

* * *

Masaki reached out to stop Shizu's forward movement. The girl froze as he did so, as is sensing for the first time that they were not yet out of danger. The dark guyver was on his feet now, backing slowly towards them and away from the animate corpse of Guyver 3. In return the pale guyver watched the three of them, its single eye seeming to emit an eerie glow as it tracked their movements.

Masaki tensed as the dark guyver extended one set of arm blades in defense, glancing worriedly between the two units as they stared one another down. After a pause that seemed to last an eternity the metal orb on what remained of the pale guyver's forehead pulsed, and Masaki saw the muscles of the jaw flex as if it were struggling to speak.

"Mine wishes you unharmed." The voice that struggled its way out of the ruined throat was harsh, flat and punctuated by gurgling breaths that pulsed fresh blood through its breath vents and set its neck wound to oozing. It sounded nothing like Sho's voice. Nothing like a humans voice, or even the distorted vocalizations of the zoaniods. It seemed hollow, lifeless like the corpse it came from.

"Do not draw weapons against us again." There was no inflection to the words, no tone of threat, but Masaki could read the implication easily enough – Attack me and I will kill you.

Slowly the dark guyver backed down, his swords once more sheathed, though he did not look at ease with the situation. Shizu pulled free of Masaki's grip and ran to the guyver's aid, propping him up as best she could when he sagged from the strain of his injuries.

The pale guyver seemed to have lost interest in them now that they were no longer threatening it. The remaining head orb swiveled back and forth, hunting for something, though Masaki wouldn't want to guess what. Still wary, he approached the girl and the dark guyver.

"We should get away from here, Chronos will send reinforcements soon." Out of the corner of eye, he noted the dead guyver's attention swiveling once more onto the three of them. Masaki only hoped it was feeling agreeable to them moving elsewhere.

"Who the hell are you?" The dark guyver, Makishima presumably, demanded. Masaki wondered if the man had even been aware of his presence until just then.

"I would like to say I'm with him," He thumbed towards Guyver 3, "But I'm not sure so much that the guy that was inside there and whatever is in control now are one and the same." The pale guyver tilted its ruined head slightly at the motion, but did not seem inclined to comment.

"The host is dead." Makishima agreed, staring past him at the guyver. "I sensed him die."

"Well, regardless, we should still be getting out of here." Masaki gripped reflexively at his gun, drawing what comfort he could from its presence. If Chronos found them now it would be very bad indeed. Two injured guyvers, a human girl and a mostly helpless experiment versus a small army of zoaniods was not how he wanted his afternoon to end.

"We should head back towards the cabin." Shizu suggested, studiously not looking towards their zombie companion. "We have a jeep hidden not far away, and I need to find out what's become of Grandfather."

"Yohei was out running an errand for me when we were attacked." Makishima informed her, and Masaki watched in fascination as his guyver unit fell away, revealing of all things another teenager. "He should just be getting back now if he hasn't been waylaid."

Masaki considered the man underneath the dark armor. His face wasn't hard to recognize, and now that he did, Masaki felt foolish for not guessing the connection before.

This was Agito Makishima, son of the head of Chronos Japan and not someone he was sure could be at all trusted. For the time being at least he was stuck with him, however, and he would have to make the best of it. On the positive, the kid looked completely wiped out so at least he wouldn't have to worry about a physical attack for awhile.

"Back the way we came then." He agreed, turning from his scrutiny of the two teenagers to consider their eerie watcher. Guyver 3 stared passively back at him. "What about you?"

"Healing." It informed him, the voice less gruesome than before, but still flat and toneless.

"I guess its your turn to follow us then." He mused, finding a spark of dry humor in spite of the situation.

* * *

It took longer than Masaki would have liked to make the hike back to the cabin. He'd pitched in with Shizu to help support Makishima, but the boy was a largely dead weight in spite of his efforts to stumble along. Inwardly, Masaki wondered how the youth felt about being carried. Makishima didn't strike him as the type to like being dependent upon others.

Behind them, a slowly healing Guyver 3 was a solid if unsettling wall against attack. It had said nothing further to any of them, only matched their pace, pausing to stand in unnatural stillness whenever they had to stop and reorient their wayward party.

More than once Masaki had considered just asking the zombie to carry their burden, but in spite of his earlier humor he couldn't shake the disquiet of the walking corpse or forget how easily it had dispatched a group of zoaniods. Always he talked himself back into simply ignoring it and hoping none of them managed to antagonize whatever was in control at the moment.

They circled slightly around the cabin to where the jeep was concealed in an old storage shed and Shizu helped Makishima into the rear seat before leaving in search of the missing grandfather.

"Who are you really?" Makishima asked after a moment of rest.

Masaki considered him for a long time before he responded. There were things he wasn't ready to say to this man, and plenty more he wasn't sure he should.

"An enemy of Chronos." He offered finally. "My name is Masaki Murakami." He studied the youth for any sign of recognition at his name, but none seemed forthcoming.

"I suppose that's fair enough." The boy told him. "You haven't asked who I am yet."

"I know who you are." He told Makishima, turning his attention to Guyver 3. The pale monster had moved back into the surrounding foliage somewhat, and you could almost overlook its stone like presence.

"Do you?" Makishima wondered, half under his breath. Masaki chose to ignore the comment.

"Anything from him?" He wondered, nodding towards their disturbing sentinel. The gaping hole had mostly covered back over with armor again, the wound healing at a frightening rate. It still looked warped somehow though. Unhealthy maybe.

"No."

Masaki wondered, as they both regarded the zombie, just who or what would wake up when it had finished healing.

"Master Agito!" Masaki turned at the call to find Shizu had returned with a box of supplies and an elderly man in toe. "When I returned to the damage I feared the worst..." The old man continued, greeting Makishima with a worried frown, but no hug.

Not for the first time that day, Masaki found himself wondering just what the relationship was with a son of Chronos and these two seemingly normal people.

"Every thing's fine, Yohei." Makishima assured the old man. "But we do need to get away from here quickly."

"Now, ideally." Masaki put in, and the old man turned, noticing him for the first time.

"Ah, we haven't met, Mr...?" The man began hesitantly.

"This is Mr. Murakami, Grandfather." Shizu introduced him as she hefted her load into the back of the jeep. "He helped us to get away from our attackers."

"My thanks for protecting Master Agito, and my granddaughter, then." The old man bowed deeply to him and Masaki found himself flustered at the gesture in spite of himself.

"I was mostly a bystander I'm afraid." He assured the old man, feeling awkward and frustrated at the situation all over again.

No one had ever accused Masaki Murikami of having stellar people skills after all, and his extended time out of Japan hadn't helped with his ability to handle formal social niceties. He found his hand itching for his gun and an enemy target. He really dealt so much better with things when shooting was involved.

"Now, now, don't be so modest, Masaki." The all too familiar voice cut into the awkward silence before he could decide how to rush them all along. "You took out at least two zoaniods completely without aid."

Guyver 3 stepped forward, his sudden movement startling everyone gathered. Masaki stared at his head – where there had once been a grotesque wound, there was now smooth clear armor. Even the blood that had soaked his pale form seemed to have fallen away.

"Good to see you alive again." Masaki offered at last, not at all sure that it actually was. "We weren't sure what to expect."

"Ah yes." The pale guyver cocked his head to one side slightly, the gesture a familiar echo to earlier that day. Masaki wondered if he really was hearing something they couldn't. "It seems you've had a chance to talk with my better half. You'll have to forgive us. He's not used to speaking to other people."

"He?" Makishima wondered under his breath. Masaki silently echoed the sentiment. He had not signed on for multiple personalities.

"I suppose its not really a 'he'" Guyver 3 answered the whispered question and Masaki made a mental note of the guyver's hearing for future reference. "But calling him 'it' seems so impersonal."

"Fascinating as this is... we were leaving in a hurry?" Masaki pressed, the seconds ticking by in his mind. Chronos wasn't going to slow down just because they were busy having some weird reunion with Sho's crazy killer zombie alter ego.

"Of course." The guyver's head orbs swiveled in a rough 360. "We're clear for the time being, but that can change quickly."

The armor broke apart silently and Sho stepped forward, looking just as he had that morning, snotty grin and all. The only evidence he had been injured at all was a long slice in his sweatshirt, trimmed in what could only be dried blood.

"You!!" Makishima's yell broke into Masaki's contemplation of Sho and he turned to see a look of shock on the young man's face.

"Its been awhile," Sho's smile at the other teenager's reaction was positively wolfish. "Hasn't it, Makishima-senpai?"

* * *

**Author's End Note:** I went through a whole back and forth argument with myself over using the Japanese honorific at the end there. As a rule of thumb I find it annoying to have bits of Japanese crop up in a fic written in English, and though a few instances of it have snuck out into my writing this story in spite of my attempts to avoid it I would still always prefer to stick to a single language unless I have a specific point to make by using an alternate one.

On the other hand "senpai" doesn't translate well and I kept sounding out "Upperclassman Makishima" in my head and thinking – 'gee that sounds really silly'. I considered dropping the designation altogether, but then I felt like it lost some of the tone I was trying to get...

Anyway, I expect no one actually cared about this but me... but these are the things I agonize over when writing. One of these days I need to get a Beta so I can just say "Should I do this or this?" and then get over it.

**Next Time: **Mom! My pet alien ate my homework!


	15. Chapter 12

**Author's Notes: **I have no excuse. My muse has been on vacation.

**Summary:** Here in my car I feel safest of all. Its the only way to live. In cars.

**Chapter 12 – Relic's Point**

**

* * *

**For an excruciatingly long moment, Agito Makishima's mind refused to process the image standing before him.

Sho Fukamachi.

Of all the possible men to be wearing the third guyver unit, this one had never once occurred to him. He wanted to say that looking back he felt it should have, but no matter how hard he tried there were no indicators in his memory that pointed to this boy having any connection to Chronos, much less one that ran deep enough for the level of knowledge Guyver 3 had displayed in the times they had met.

There had been only the smallest of signs that Fukamachi was even worth a few moments of attention. He had been almost a non-entity within the student council, little more than a human recorder and the tiny amount of information Agito had on his life outside of that was... well, _boring._

Sho Fukamachi was an average student. His family's wealth and standing were average middle class. His extracurriculars were unremarkable and even his level of fitness was almost ridiculously _average_...

He was as a whole one of the most unremarkable people that Agito Makishima had ever met.

Or at least he had seemed to be.

"No proper greetings again?" Fukamachi sounded amused and looking into the other boy's face, Agito Makishima was hit with how completely utterly _wrong_ he had been about this person. On the outside Sho Fukamachi might have appeared normal, but looking in his eyes... those were not the eyes of a regular teenager. Agito wasn't sure they were eyes that even belonged to a human.

"Having already been through this crap once today – can you please stop taunting your friend and just get in the damn car?" Murakami's voice cut through the tension of their staring contest and all at once Fukamachi looked like himself again, vacant smile and all.

"Right, sorry about that." Fukamachi rubbed at the back of his head in embarrassment. "Um, we haven't been introduced yet, Mr...?" His attention switched to Yohei.

Murakami growled at the change in tactic and stalked around the vehicle to shove open the rear doors.

"Introductions later. In the car. Now."

Fukamachi rolled his eyes at the gesture, but approached the jeep hoping into the middle seat in front of Agito carelessly.

"I told you I just scanned the area. We're clear for a mile square at least, no need to be in so much of a hurry that you're rude." Fukamachi turned around to face Agito again as Murakami climbed in opposite him and a clearly confused Yohei climbed into the front passenger seat. From the driver's seat, Shizu's eyes met his in question. He nodded ever so slightly to her, not at all sure that they should be trusting these two, but willing to chance it for the time being.

It wasn't as if they had that much of a choice in the matter.

"Please tell me that there's food in that box." Fukamachi half climbed over the back of his seat, scrambling for the supply package that Shizu had just loaded.

"I saw you die." Agito managed finally. The younger boy only hummed vaguely in response, too wrapped up in his frantic dig through the box to spare Agito a glance.

"I saw you _die._" He repeated more firmly.

"Hah!" Fukamachi emerged from his contortion act across two rows of seats, a box of energy bars in hand. He fished one out and shoved it in Agito's direction before slumping back down into his own seat. "Healing major body parts always leaves me starving." The boy mused, "All that energy has to come from somewhere you know." He offered the older boy a serious look as he unwrapped the food. "You should eat that. It'll help." He advised before stuffing the energy bar gracelessly into his mouth.

Agito stared down at the offering dubiously before turning back to Fukamachi.

"I. Saw. You. Die." In another time, when he was less exhausted, Agito was entirely confident that he could have come up with something better to say, but this was not that time or place and he was running on his last reserves.

The memory was clear. Fukamachi stumbling out into the courtyard. The laser blast. There was no way the unfortunate idiot could have escaped before he'd been completely atomized.

"You saw what you wanted to see." Fukamachi had polished off the first bar and was now working at the wrapper of a second intently. Something had shifted in his face, and once again Agito was possessed of the feeling of _wrongness _about that look. "Your mind took what it could from a limited vantage and processed it in a way that was comprehensible to you. And you accepted that what you thought you saw was what you actually did see."

"You're not connected to Chronos. You're not connected to any of this! I would have known if you were! I would have...!" He was yelling now, his temper over-running his restraint. "Its _not possible for you to be Guyver III_!"

From the front, Yohei was offering him concerned glances while Shizu and Murakami studiously pretended not to notice his meltdown.

Fukamachi only stared at him. Something that he thought might have been sympathy in the younger boy's eyes.

"Eat." He advised at last, his attention returning to his own interrupted meal. "And then get some rest."

* * *

Aptom sat opposite Commander Guyot in the limousine, watching the man's expression change from stern to disgusted to angry all in the span of about a minute.

"Do you mean to tell me that _two hyper zoaniods_ were insufficient to subdue a pair of teenagers and an old man?" Reichman Guyot's voice was fascinating to the lost number. In a good mood the gruff tone was intimidating, but in a bad one... in a bad one the man growled more than he spoke. It should have been impossible to put that level of rage and venom into a mere voice, yet the commander managed it without any effort whatsoever.

Aptom smirked faintly as the man's cell phone cracked under the force of his grip. He felt sorry for whatever poor underling was on the other end of the line.

He had made good use of his time out of Relic's Point. Some bribery combined with a bit of pseudo-telepathic persuasion had given him rather a lot of information on just what was going on with the Japanese arm of the company and more specifically just how spectacularly the matter of the unit-gs had been bungled.

The smuggling of the units out of Relic's Point had been impressive, and all signs pointed to it being an inside job. But even with as widespread and powerful as Chronos was, this wouldn't have been the first attempt at corporate espionage to befall them. It would be a very rare retrieval and containment failure however.

That two of the units were lost in their entirety before the Japan branch had mobilized to hunt down the rogue agent that had stolen them was ridiculous. That the branch had been careless enough to allow the third to be activated by a visiting inspector was no better.

That they had subsequently _misplaced _said inspector was absolutely ridiculous.

Aptom supposed that the commander could be commended for at least identifying one of the hosts of the initially lost units, though the fact that it was again an insider that had activated it was another mark again the Japan branch.

"Idiots!" Guyot snarled, the cell phone offering one last feeble spark of protest before imploding into so much scrap under the force of the man's grip. The commander scowled at the destroyed tech, shaking the broken bits from his hand in disgust.

Aptom turned his attention from the fuming councilman to survey the passing landscape. They were getting close to Minakami.

One thing bothered him about this assignment still. His best efforts at Chronos Japan had failed to bring up any suggestion of just what Guyot had done to provoke the doctor's ire. As near as he could tell based on all the information he had gathered regarding the guyver units it didn't appear to be a related offense. Which meant that he had missed something at Relic's Point. Once they arrived back, he fully intended to rectify that.

* * *

Masaki Murakami glanced discretely about the car as they drove away from the cabin. This was not exactly the outcome he might have expected or desired from the side trip Sho had requested. On the one hand, keeping one of the guyver units out of Chronos' hands was important.

On the other he trusted Agito Makishima even less than he trusted the brat and taking him into Relic's Point and showing the former Chronos lackey the inner workings of the rebellion seemed at best unwise and at worst... well, he didn't really want to think to hard about that.

The two civilians were going to be a problem as well. It would be work to smuggle in two other people, not to say anything of four.

"We should go pick up your car." Sho interrupted his musings quietly.

And there was another reason to be annoyed with the boy. They'd be lucky if his car was still where they'd left it. At least there wasn't anything that important in it.

"You left a car somewhere?" The girl's voice interrupted before he had a chance to respond.

"We _were_ in something of a hurry at the time." Masaki grumbled. "No telling if its still there."

"It should be, there aren't enough police this far out to make towing it a priority." Sho pointed out.

"It might be good to have a second vehicle." Shizu noted, her gaze shifting briefly to Masaki in the rear view mirror before returning to the barely visible path they seemed to be following. "If they are looking for us in the forest, being out on paved roads could also work to our advantage."

Masaki shifted in his seat and considered that he might have written the girl off a little too quickly after all.

"It'll make it harder to be followed if we're able to split up." Sho pressed. "And I wouldn't mind getting my pack back."

"Please tell me you're not stupid enough to have left anything incriminating in my car." Masaki glowered at the boy but Sho only rolled his eyes.

"I'm not an idiot, Masaki." He twitched at the still overly familiar address, but let it slide. Probably the brat was only using his name to annoy him anyway. "I just want to change."

Sho picked absently at the slashed sweatshirt, the only visible reminder of his recent injuries.

Masaki risked a glance behind himself to where Makishima had passed out after his earlier outburst. The older boy hadn't been injured nearly as badly as Sho, but he seemed to be suffering more for it.

"Why aren't you passed out as well?" He wondered aloud.

"Hmm, that's..... a good question." Sho ran a hand through his hair, scratching at his presumably newly grown scalp absently. "The answer is complicated. Lets say... its to do with experience. Turn here, please." The boy leaned forward to point off their track onto an even more dubious path. "There's a dirt road up ahead that will let us out on the road where we left the car."

Shizu obligingly altered their route and Masaki supposed this meant that retrieving the car had been decided without him. Part of him wanted to argue, but his desire to have the Mazda back won out.

"Experience? Is this something to do with regrowing half your brain?" He demanded instead.

Sho winced a bit at the observation and Yohei started, turning to give them a confused look.

"That was... not exactly what I meant." An uncomfortable silence fell, and for a moment Masaki was sure the brat wasn't going to offer any more of an answer than that.

"It's not a pleasant experience, you know." He began slowly. "I feel everything... everything that happens to the armor happens to me." Sho shook his head, a haunted look flashing ever so briefly across features that were far too young to know the kind of pain it held.

"The guyver pulls its power from the host. Its extremely efficient at that. It can actually harness something like a fusion reaction from organic cells. The problem is that every organism's DNA reacts differently to the process. The control metal takes time to... calibrate the reaction to its host." Sho glanced back at his sleeping counterpart. "I've simply been connected to my unit longer than he has."

"So eventually using this thing will be easier on Master Agito?" Shizu's voice was tinted with relief.

"Eventually." Sho agreed, and the girl seemed pleased with the answer, but Masaki had to wonder at the boy's tone just how long 'eventually' took.

* * *

Relic's Point was on high alert for them when they arrived.

Aptom watched silently as an escort of soldiers surrounded Reichman Guyot on their arrival, ushering the man towards the doctor's labs.

It was not hard with the distraction provided to discreetly slip away from the group. He ducked down a less used research corridor as the group boarded the freight elevator that led to the labs.

"Have a nice trip, little brother?" Somlum's voice welcomed him from one of the shadowed doorways. He scowled at the address, turning to face his counterpart.

"It was no better than any other." He returned, crossing his arms as he studied the empty hall thoughtfully.

Aptom would not have considered anyone within Chronos as a friend. But the other lost numbers were the nearest things he had to family and circumstance had drawn the three into a strange kind of trust and camaraderie. If the elder zoaniods were sometimes jealous of his more frequent trips to the outside world then they could at least be counted on to limit their expression of it to casual verbal sniping.

"Dyme reports that the doctor has been rather occupied with something going on out on the mountain since you left." Somlum informed him, gesturing Aptom to follow him into the maze of rooms that made up the Bases processing center.

Relic's Point was one of the largest collections of processing technology in the world, fully ten levels of the massive underground base were devoted to little more than holding rooms for the large tanks that could transition a mere human into a genetically modified super-being. The systems were largely automated these days and though Relic's Point hosted a massive staff or scientists and trainees the labyrinth of processing tanks was left largely to its own devices unless it required maintenance or an insertion or extraction was in process.

Some of the scientists referred to the darkened maze as the Horror House, and glancing about the rooms into the foggy liquid it was not hard to understand why. Half mutated beings hovered unconsciously in the nutrient gel in varying states of transition. Often during the processing it was hard to make out just how many limbs a being possessed and the shift was rarely the relatively smooth reordering of cells that occurred during a normal transformation.

Some of the men that floated in these tanks had flesh and organs bulging grotesquely through the outer skin or beginnings of a carapace, others had eyes that floated loosely in the surrounding gel, attached only by a fine collection of nerves and overextended muscles. Tongues lolled out of unformed jaws and bone poked through the ends of fingers or claws. Tails emerged as lumpy spikes from backsides, and brain tissues was often visible through partially reformed skulls.

It was a disturbing place to be, but for the lost numbers it was home. Horrible scenery or no it was strangely comforting to Aptom to walk between the silent tanks.

"Guyot sent out some kind of orders before we left. I rather expect the two things are related." Aptom observed, keeping a wary eye on the other zoaniod. Somlum did not comment on the revelation, instead changing trajectory abruptly to head deeper into the maze.

"These "Guyver" units seem to be a higher priority concern than I'd originally thought." He added, following the other man.

"We've been looking into it while you were out." Somlum agreed. "It seems they originated from the Relic itself." The lost number came to halt at a dead end where a jumpsuit had been tossed casually across the back of a monitoring console. "You remember that incident a few years back when they threw away a whole platoon getting inside the thing?"

"I heard about it." He had been unconscious at the time, in one of his transition periods but it was worthless to say anything about it. Somlum remembered and was only baiting him.

"Apparently the units are all that came of the exploration."

Aptom frowned a little. Most of Relic's Point that had been around since then knew about the incident Somlum was referring to, as well as the fact that Commander Guyot had brought _something_ out of the interior of the biological machine that lived under the base. In spite of some dedicated searching just after the occurrence, however, the lost numbers had never managed to dig up just what that something was.

"Well, well, Aptom," A resonant voice echoed from the walls of the room as the ceiling just above him seemed to be trying to melt. "Have we got things to tell you." Dyme reformed as well as he was able on the ground before the two men.

If he had not been as close to the two men as he was, Aptom often felt he would be inclined to pity Dyme. Of the three of them Dyme's physical shell had suffered the most for his transformation. While Aptom and Somlum could both still revert to a human appearance, Dyme was limited to a form that was at best mostly man-shaped. His flesh draped itself into a semi-solid body that lacked the solidity of a real skeleton and if his unnaturally chalky complexion and hollow eyes did not immediately give him away, his strange way of moving would.

Dyme would receive no sympathy from him, however. The lost number's unique physiology might have appeared outwardly to be a hindrance, but he spent so little time in his body that he might as well not have one. In many ways Dyme had more freedom than Aptom and Somlum combined. The nature of his abilities allowed him to 'see' into most of the base and surrounding countryside, his reach and senses limited only by distance and the lines of electric wiring that powered the base from its thermal reactor. The liquid nature of his cells had saved the man more than a few trips to the reprocessing tanks as well.

"Do you now?" Aptom prompted as Dyme flowed into his uniform.

"Oh yes, I have some big news indeed." Dyme smiled that too wide smile of his, lips parting to reveal a gaping hole where there should have been teeth. "We should prepare. It seems that soon Relic's Point will be receiving some very important guests."

* * *

Sho slid into the passenger seat of the RX-7 as Masaki gave Shizu directions to where they would rendezvous back with Makashima and the Onumas. The car was pretty much as they'd left it, which was less surprising than it might have been considering they'd basically left it in the middle of nowhere.

:small time gone: The unit whispered, apparently finished with its scan of the area.

It was right. The dash clock reported that only perhaps five hours had passed since they had abandoned the RX-7. It seemed longer.

His mind was foggy from the earlier injury. Brain damage was always disorienting but this was more so than he had experienced before. The unit had remained intact and aware for the duration of his unconsciousness and there were strange distorted echoes of what had happened in his absence where there would have once just been a period of blankness.

The sense of concern/apology from the unit strangely helped to quell the sense of vertigo that came with examining the other memories too closely.

:Not your fault I was careless.: He pointed out reasonably, digging through his pack for a spare shirt.

Masaki slid into the driver's seat as he pulled off the ruined sweatshirt, giving it a quick once over before stuffing it to the bottom of the bag until he had a chance to dispose of it. His spare top was a little thin for the cool evening, but it was intact and clean.

"How long is 'eventually'?" Masaki prompted as they pulled out onto the darkening street, the headlights only half visible in the evening light. Sho spared him a sideways glance, debating for just a moment how to answer the question. Lying to the man was hard, but the truth was complicated.

"....long." Sho offered at last, turning his attention to the surrounding landscape. It was hard to tell in the waning light, but he thought he could just see Mt. Minakami in the distance.

:Forever maybe...: He mused silently. Makishima was at a substantial disadvantage. It would take a lifetime that never seemed to end for the other man to reach the 'eventually' that Sho had now.

"The units have only been out of Chronos for a few weeks." Masaki pointed out, sparing a side glance for Sho. "Either your unit isn't one of the three that was stolen..."

"It is." He cut off the protolord a bit more abruptly than he'd intended, but there was no sense letting the man get his hopes up.

"Then what you're saying is that somehow you had access to the guyver unit before it was 'lost'." Masaki's tone was less harsh than he would have expected at such an observation.

"In a manner of speaking." He agreed reluctantly.

"I would love to know how you managed that." Masaki mused, and Sho was surprised that there wasn't more of a demand in the man's voice.

"Shall we just say its a matter of perspective and leave it at that for the time being?" He offered hopefully. Sho might have trusted Masaki Murakami implicitly but there were some things that the man wasn't any more ready to hear than he was ready to tell him. In this lifetime they had barely met, and however much he wanted to lean on the old camaraderie...

:Will I ever be able to relate to people normally again?: He wondered inwardly. Everyone he interacted with had a long history with him that they couldn't remember. How was he supposed to deal with that?

The urge to run away was strong but fleeting. He'd made up his mind already. And if he wanted to change things he needed to do more than just change himself, he needed to change the other players as well.

"For now." Masaki agreed reluctantly.

Sho turned to look at the man's profile. Visually Masaki Murakami had not changed all that much from his memories – his hair was shorter, and there was a hunch to his shoulders, faint but there, that hinted at the chronic pain that had plagued the man's life in recent years. It was already far too dark for the sunglasses he wore, but preternatural night vision had always been one of the protolord's abilities and somehow the man looked more natural to him with the lenses than without.

"You haven't gone out of your way to make a real good impression on me but I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt." Masaki paused, considering his words. "Something in my gut says that it's worth the risk. Just remember – Someday you're going to sit down and explain this to me start to finish."

"Someday." He agreed with a small quirk of amusement.

"Goddamn brat." Masaki grumbled under his breathe.

Sho's chest clenched painfully as he looked at the familiar scowl and he forced himself to look away before his body could consider hyperventilating. The fear would paralyze him if he wasn't careful. Loosing his friend and mentor had been hard enough once, but it was entirely possible that his actions now would cause the man's loss again. This time perhaps more permanently.

:cannot predict: came the gentle intrusion.

:No: He agreed tiredly :And that's the problem:

All the future knowledge in the world was only going to get him so far, after that... after that he was on his own, with only his gut and experience to guide him.

:**we**: came the correction and he felt a small smile quirk at the protest.

:Right: He agreed, staring out at the dark landscape. After that... they were on their own.

**

* * *

Author's End Note: **I'm looking for a beta reader to help me get the rest of this fic finished. Details on my profile page. K THX BYE!

**Next Time: **Everything goes to hell. In a hand basket. Aptom is in charge of bringing the munchies.


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